


you were my best four years

by ourlovelybones



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, Multi, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 81,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4411346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourlovelybones/pseuds/ourlovelybones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas and Teresa begin a new chapter in their lives when they arrive at Glade University for the first day of college. Along the way, Thomas befriends a new core group of friends: Harriet, Sonya, Minho, and most importantly - Newt.</p><p>{a slow-burn, friends to lovers au full of newtmas, drama, friendship, romance, and crazy shenanigans}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Fifteen minutes._

"Are you nervous?" Teresa asks him, her feet propped up on the dashboard. She's biting her lips and fiddling with the stations in the car radio.

"I don't think I've ever heard of that word before. Use it in a sentence?"

"Stop being such a smart ass, Tom." She rolls her eyes but her voice has no real fire behind it. "I'm nervous."

"You're always nervous. Your own birthday makes you nervous."

"That's not true. You're just being horrible."

"It's close to true." Thomas persists. "At least, half true."

He stops at a red light and looks at her, her crystal blue eyes already full of worry. He sighs and tears his away for a minute. "If it makes you happy, I'm more nervous than you are."

Teresa scoffs as the light turns green and he merges onto the highway. "Sure you are. My stomach's currently eating itself while you're all calm and collected. College, Tom! We're going to fucking college."

"No shit."

"I'm serious -"

"Was it supposed to be taken as a joke?"

"I'm going to kill you."

"If your stomach's currently eating itself, I don't see how you can."

He's only calm and collected on the outside because this is Teresa, his best friend of over fifteen years. The same girl he used to take baths with when they were little after they made mud pies and went digging for worms. The same girl he took to prom because neither of them had dates and who's a better date than the person who's already seen you naked?

It's only because she's sitting next to him that he's able to continue their playful banter and not surge into a mental breakdown.

"My parents are scrapping together pennies to start paying off student loans," she sighs.

"That doomsday is four years away so let's leave it there."

"I'm going to need like, fifty jobs. And even then I'll still be in debt by the time I'm sixty."

"Now you're just overreacting."

"Like I wasn't before?"

Thomas chuckles before merging right to get off the highway.

_Six minutes._

He's quiet for a moment before he says, "I'm nervous that I don't know what I'm doing with my life and that this is all going to be a mistake four years down the road when they're handing me some stupid piece of paper and I change my mind about what I want to be."

"So just like senior year?"

"Exactly like senior year." He confirms and concentrates hard on the blue car in front of him, as if it will serve as his anchor for the moment. "I mean, who really needs an economics degree these days?"

"You have a point. We should have been chemistry majors."

"At least we could blow stuff up when we were upset and have a reason for doing so. And we'd get paid a ton of money."

"Wow, we really fucked ourselves over, didn't we?"

"Sure did. Now we're only going downhill from here, my friend."

"Let's just get the applications for McDonalds and stop kidding ourselves."

He stops at a red light and looks at her. As soon as their eyes connect, they burst into a roaring laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt.

"Thank God I have you, Tom." She says, after they've managed to calm themselves down to the point where they can breathe. "I think I'd be an actual wreck if I had to do this alone."

_Two minutes._

He starts to feel the warning signs of anxiety, worrying that her nerves have finally radiated onto him. His stomach is twisting itself into knots and his palms are getting sweaty clutching the driver's wheel.

"Some people have to do this alone."

"Poor unfortunate souls."

He's silent as he turns left and pulls into the parking lot of Glade University, Home of the Runners. He parks into the first available spot he sees and turns off the engine.

"I'm really glad I have you, T. There's no one else I'd rather go through this with."

"Are you - are you being sentimental?" She asks dramatically, clutching her hand over her heart. "Is - is  _Thomas_ _Greene,_ being sentimental?"

He rolls his eyes and throws his keys at her. "You know, for someone so damn nervous, you seem like you're fine to me."

They both sigh and face the large silver building in front of them, with crowds of students coming in and out. The glass windows reveal even more students already situated in, chatting and socializing. Across the glade, there are even more students, sitting outside and enjoying the sun.

He and Teresa face each other one more time. "So, about this college thing."

* * *

The last thing he needs before his first college class is coffee.

The first thing he gets before his first college class is coffee.

He's already buzzing with anxiety and first day jitters and it really doesn't help that he doesn't have classes with Teresa this semester. His first class is Advanced Calculus, which should be a breeze for him, but he's well aware that there's no first day in collegiate history that something doesn't go completely wrong.

His something that goes completely wrong comes in the tall, brooding form of Gally Poulter.

His back is to Thomas, who pushes through the hall of students to get into the classroom. Thomas is too busy, checking his text messages, and Gally is too busy, leaning back as he laughs at something his friend says. They're both too busy wrapped up in their own affairs to notice the other before coming into a full on collision.

Thomas stares in horror as the hot contents of his cup splash onto Gally's back and drip down his spine in slow motion. He immediately rushes to apologize, "Oh my God, man, I am so sorry -"

"You're  _sorry_?" Gally bellows, or at least it sounds like he's bellowing to Thomas, whose morning is not going well so far. "You slinthead, you just spilled your stupid coffee all over me!"

"Slinthead?" Thomas repeats in confusion.

"You're going to pay for that -"

"Why don't you pay for my coffee, jerk? You're the one who was leaning back." Thomas fires at him.

Now that their attention is completely on each other, they barely notice the class beginning to watch them intensely. 

Gally lifts his long legs over the table and comes face to face with Thomas. "The day hell freezes over is the day I'll pay for your coffee, slinthead."

"What the  _hell_ is a slinthead? Just because you have the eyebrows of Satan doesn't mean you need to act like him."

Thomas is fairly certain that he sees his life flash before his eyes as Gally shoves him back with so much force, he goes flying across the classroom. He's not sure if he's seeing stars or the lights taking him to Heaven by the time his back collides with the floor.

He hears someone defending him and is vaguely aware of two people lifting him up and helping him to the back classroom before sitting him in a chair. He wants to thank someone but his head is too dizzy to focus on anything.

"Can someone please tell me what a slinthead is?" He mutters mainly to himself, when the professor finally decides to show up for class.

"I think it's derogatory." A pretty blonde girl explains, turning around in her chair to face him. He tries to focus on her coffee colored eyes to stop feeling the pain coursing through his back, even though he's having trouble focusing on her voice.

"The boys in Hall A came up with them." Another girl with beautifully curly hair and golden skin rolls her eyes. "They've been using them for the past three weeks now."

"You're just jealous that the girls in Hall B aren't as clever as we are." A bulky, Asian figure retaliates as he plops down next to Thomas. "Name's Minho. Who are you?"

"Nice manners, Minho." The blonde girl rolls her eyes and Thomas realizes she has a British accent. "I'm Sonya and she's Harriet."

"Thomas," he nods, rubbing his head. He looks back over to the kid who almost knocked the air out of him. "I don't suppose you know who that is?"

"You four in the back," the professor's voice travels up to them from the front of the class. They all turn in unison to see a man of average height and graying hair, with deep blue eyes, glaring at them from the chalkboard below. "I hope I'm not disturbing your conversation as you seem intent on disturbing my class. This is  _Advanced_ Calculus. Not beginners, not introductory. This year, we'll be moving at a faster rate than some of you are prepared for. Gossiping with your friends is not a way to become prepared in my class."

He turns back to the chalkboard and Thomas immediately exchanges a look with Minho. "He's pleasant."

"Oh, the best. That shank you asked about, he's Gally. He's got a bit of a chip on his shoulder."

"Yeah, well he's still an asshole."

"And I won't deny it. Listen, you have plans for lunch today?"

"I'm probably just going to grab something with my friend -"

"Great." Minho flashes him a smile. "You'll have lunch with us."

* * *

"So you've nearly gotten yourself knocked out by an Adonis and managed to make new friends all at the same time." Teresa recounts as they walk towards the dining hall. "You never cease to amaze me."

"Look, there's Minho."

"Oh. He's _cute_."

"Calm down, tiger." Thomas tells her as they approach Minho and his friends sitting at a circular table in the dining hall. "Hey. This is Teresa."

"Thomas! Glad you came. Nice to meet you, Teresa. That's Sonya and Harriet, whom Thomas met earlier today, and that's my pal, Newt." Minho says, pointing each individual out. They give a small wave in return.

As soon as Thomas's eyes land on Newt, he can't help but blurt out, "You're Peter Pan. You're literally Peter Pan."

Sonya leans her head back and laughs. "That's what he's been hearing his whole bloody life. Here, sit."

Teresa takes the empty chair between Sonya and Minho, leaving Thomas the empty chair between Harriet and Newt.

Newt leans close to him and says in a lower voice. "To be honest, mate, that's quite the compliment."

He has the same British accent as Sonya, Thomas notices. And the same blond hair, even though hers is pulled back into a ponytail and his barely reaches past his ears. And the same coffee colored eyes.

"Are you -"

"And Sonya related? She's my half sister, believe it or not, the details of which are too messy to delve into at this present moment in time." Newt says with a childish smirk. "I still choose not to believe it."

"He's just jealous I'm the prettier one." Sonya insists, looking relieved.

While they could pass for gender swapped versions of each other, Newt's curved in eyebrows and small, boyish face remind him intensely of his favorite childhood character.

"I have nothing to be jealous of." Newt declares, pretending to flip his hair over his shoulder. "Do I, Harriet?"

Harriet snorts. "As if I'm getting into this. Girls, girls, you're both pretty."

"I think we all know who the prettiest person here is." Minho holds his hand up as if he's in surrender. "Me."

"Or your ego." Thomas says without thinking.

Newt, Sonya, and Harriet burst into laughter around him and he smiles apologetically at Minho.

"I see how it is, Thomas. I save your ass and then you insult my looks. Peasant."

"Saved his ass?" Newt raises his eyebrows.

"Gally." Harriet rolls her eyes. "All you need to know."

"Who's Gally?" Teresa asks a little quietly, speaking for the first time.

"Major slinthead." Minho explains, as if Teresa had any idea of what a slinthead was. "Tried to knock the living daylights out of Thomas here."

Newt frowns, turning to examine him. "You alright?"

Thomas is a little hesitant on moving out of Newt's touch but assures him he's much better.

"I thought he was a goner." Harriet mentions, to Thomas's surprise. "I mean, you literally  _flew_ backwards."

"He's a tough shank," Minho says, almost looking impressed. "Do you play any sports?"

"I just ran track in high school."

"Oh Tom's being modest," Teresa cuts in. "He was the fastest in our district and won first place all four years for regional competitions. He even qualified for nationals -"

"Thanks, Teresa," Thomas interjects, feeling his cheeks grow red, before she could mention how his mom wasn't able to afford the competition fare.

"Oh, boys! They either downplay their achievements or rub it in your faces to hook up with you." Sonya rolls her eyes. "That's awesome, Thomas! You  _should_ be boasting about it."

"You should join the track team," Minho decides.

"You'd be a great fit! But as much fun as this conversation is, I have to leave." Harriet stands up and smiles. She turns to Newt. "Are you coming?"

"Depends on where you're going."

"I left something in my dorm."

Sonya snickers from across the table and Minho gives Thomas a knowing look, that flies completely over his head.

Newt ignores the two and stands up himself, taking his tray with him. "Might as well. Cheers, mates. Bye Thomas and Teresa, happy to meet you!"

Thomas watches the two walk off, standing particularly close together, before returning his attention to Minho and Sonya. "What's so funny?"

"That was code for let's go snogging in my dorm." Sonya explains through a fit of giggles.

"Snogging?"

"Kissing." Minho translates with a crooked smile. "Making out, if you will."

"They've only been dating a couple days, but we've known her for years, almost." Sonya tells her. "My mum, Harriet's mum, and Minho's mum all used to go here when they were in Uni and were the best of friends. They stayed friends even after my mum had to move to England. Imagine their surprise when we  _all_ got in."

"They seem like a lovely couple." Teresa says politely.

Minho doesn't look so convinced. "Sure. For now. Anyways it's been great meeting you, shanks. I'll see you around."

Sonya leaves a little shortly after that and Teresa waits until she's out of sight before whispering, "What the hell is a shank?"

"You're asking the wrong person, buddy."

"Slinthead?"

"Gally called me that before he shoved me ten feet backwards."

"Lovely."

They're both silent for a moment, letting the vents of the day overwhelm them. Their trays with uneaten sandwiches and unopened soda bottles fill the space on the table between them.

Thomas sighs and manages a smirk. "So, about this college thing."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Thomas finds out about Minho's wild parties and discovers a shocking revelation. {september}

In the last weeks of September, after freshmen jitters have started to fade and crisp air replaces the warm summer breeze, Thomas finds out about Minho's wild parties.

"Apparently back in high school, he used to throw them once a month." Newt explains to Thomas and Teresa, one Tuesday, at a diner across from campus. "His parents go on business trips quite frequently and he'd send us pictures of house - completely trashed - after the parties."

Thomas waits until he's finished chewing his burger to ask, "And his parents never found out?"

"They had to have suspected something," Sonya shrugs, offering Newt the rest of her hot fudge sundae. "I mean, you leave a teenage boy home alone, up to his own devices - it had to have crossed their minds."

"So he plans on throwing one this week?" Teresa clarifies.

"Since Halloween's a month away, he wants to "give everyone a preview of what's to come"," Newt tells them, poorly imitating Minho's accent and causing Thomas to laugh.

"Oh please do say you'll come!" Sonya exclaims. "Teresa, you can stay with me and Harriet in our dorm! We can have a sleepover, as if we were children, and do each other's hair and nails-"

"Don't traumatize the poor girl." Newt interjects.

"And Thomas can stay with you guys," Sonya continues, as if he hadn't spoken at all. "You all can beat each other up or do whatever you boys do at sleepovers."

Teresa giggles at that while Newt rolls his eyes, "Excuse my bossy sister and pretend she's normal. You all should come, though."

"Yeah, that'd be fun." Thomas agrees before glancing at Teresa.

She looks apologetic. "I've already made plans with Gigi and Jacob to go camping. It's their two year anniversary."

Thomas frowns in confusion. "So why are you going?"

"Well, you were supposed to come too. That way I wouldn't feel like a third wheel."

Thomas makes a face. "With Jacob? I'd rather not."

"Who's Jacob?" Newt asks.

"He's a friend of Teresa's, who went to our high school, that tried to steal my signed Mets baseball and sell it on eBay."

"Sounds like an a-" Newt starts to say before catching Teresa watching him carefully. "An ah, interesting guy."

Teresa turns back to Thomas, a defeated look already in her eyes. "Are you going to go to the party instead?"

He knows that she wants him to spend time with their friends back home but Minho's party was a lot more tantalizing than spending three days with Jacob Stoll. To be fair, Thomas thought, anything was more tantalizing than spending time with Jacob.

He makes up his mind. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

Sonya cheers loudly and Newt looks delighted. "All right, Tommy! Next time then, Teresa?"

Teresa's smile is friendly but small. "Absolutely."

Newt and Sonya make their way back to campus a bit later, leaving Thomas and Teresa to head back home.

They make small conversation during the first ten minutes of the car ride before Teresa comments, "I wish you were coming with us this weekend. You'd have so much fun."

Thomas looks at her quickly before averting his eyes back to the road. "Are you being serious right now? Me and Jacob in the same -"

"It's not just going to be Jacob there, you dimwit."

"Calling me names isn't going to make me want to go."

She sighs and leans her head on the window. "I know. I wish I knew what would."

* * *

 

The dorms at Glade University are the largest dorms Thomas has ever seen. By the time he makes his way down the catwalk to Minho and Newt's dorm, the party is already raging, leaving Thomas, alone, to be shocked by the sheer size of the dorm. 

It's large enough to hold two twin size beds in each corner and a door leading to a private bathroom in the far left corner. An intimate group have already assembled, dancing or flirting to the music blaring from the speakers.

Minho spots Thomas and immediately hands him a beer. "Thomas, my man! Where's Teresa?"

"She couldn't come," Thomas shouts apologetically over the music.

"What a pity. Have you met my good friends, Frypan?"

Minho gradually leads around the room, handing him a beer with each strange-named person he meets: Frypan is a friendly guy with a passion for cooking, Zart's in their Advanced Calculus class, and Aris, who looks like he should be a freshmen in high school. Thomas begins to look for Newt or someone who's actually familiar to him when he feels something cold splash violently against his back.

He turns around sharply to find the perpetrator, unabashedly holding a red solo cup. Gally pretends to shrug shamefully. "Oh, so sorry man."

His goonies behind him, Ben and Winston, laugh like hyenas and Thomas can barely keep from clenching his fists. The various beers have already mixed into his system and Gally's not looking too sober himself.

"What's your problem?" Thomas spits at him.

"My problem is your presence here, Greenie." Gally says menacingly, coming closer.

A flashback of a pair of warm brown eyes and a fatherly smile crosses Thomas's mind. It was a sunny day out in the park and they were having a picnic, a football between them. He remembers the face telling him, " _One day, you're going to be a professional football player. You hear me, Greenie? Something that'll make your old man proud_."

"Back up, Gally, before I hurt you."

Gally stares at him in shock before he actually begins to laugh so hard, Thomas thinks there are tears forming in his eyes. Gally's a 6 foot 4, bulky force of nature while Thomas is a good five inches shorter and maybe fifty pounds lighter.

Anyone in their right mind would be laughing.

Instead of backing up, Gally pushes even closer, gathering cheers and "uh-oh"s from everyone else in the party. They're almost face to face and Thomas is getting ready to shove Gally back as hard as he shoved him the first day when someone intercepts the two boys.

"Gally, lay off the shank. It wouldn't kill you to be nice." He looks friendly enough to Thomas; he's a tall, dark-skinned sophomore with dark brown eyes that are welcoming and kind, instead of menacing and haunting like Gally's.

"This is Thomas, the guy I was telling you about." A familiar British accent says from behind him, two hands resting on his shoulders. "Thomas, meet Alby. Alby's a sophomore and one of the best guys here."

Alby shakes a drunken Thomas's hand before leading Gally away, whose cheeks are still red from laughing so hard.

Thomas turns to Newt, who nods his head towards the door. "Reckon you'll want to get out of here?"

"Gladly."

They make their way through the sweaty sea of people drinking and dancing before Newt pushes the door open to cool and fresh air. In front of the catwalk of dorm rooms, is a stone wall protecting the students from plummeting to their deaths. Newt leans against it, Thomas following suit.

"When I first met Gally, I thought he was the biggest twit I'd ever encountered. I hated him for a little while." Newt explains.

Thomas raises his eyebrows, trying to find an anchor to sober himself. "And you don't anymore?"

"Not after I found out what happened. Gally used to have a little brother named Chuck, whom he was very found of. Chuck was three years younger than Gally, but always wanted to keep up with him. Gally had fallen into the wrong sort of crowd his third year, and unknowingly brought Chuck along with him. While Gally managed to redeem himself his fourth year, Chuck didn't. He died of a heroin overdose six months ago and Gally still hasn't forgiven himself for it."

Even drunk, Thomas was still capable of harboring feelings. His anger subsided and was even beginning to melt into pity.

"Do you feel bad for him?" Thomas asks.

The music is still blaring from inside the dorm but Thomas focuses hard enough on Newt's low voice, almost veiling his charming accent. "I don't know well him enough to feel bad for him. If we were friends, certainly. Though, I doubt he seeks either of our pity."

"I don't want to feel like an asshole for being mad at him." Thomas blurts out, cringing at the intoxicated word vomit. He wants to blame it on the alcohol but is well aware no amount of beer could have conjured up that sentiment alone.

"Well, he did shove you across a classroom."

Thomas almost blushes. "I, uh, might have provoked that."

Newt raises his eyebrow.

"I told him he has the eyebrows of Satan."

Newt's amiable brown eyes slowly widen in amusement and a grin crosses his face, making him look even more childish than normal. A chuckle begins to escape his lips and soon Thomas joins in, until they're both clutching their sides with laughter.

Thomas is just starting to think that this party might not be so bad after all when the flashing blue lights and deafening sirens signal that the campus police have arrived.

* * *

 

"I'm starting to think that I can't leave you alone." Teresa says with wide, crystal colored eyes after he tells her the events that transpired Friday night.

It's a bleary Monday morning and the two are groggy and sleep-deprived, making the 45 minute drive up to the Glade even more unbearable than normal.

"If it wasn't for Alby, I think blood would have been shed." Thomas recollects, desperately wishing that he had a coffee. "You should have come."

Teresa shrugs. "The camping trip _was_ fun, thanks for asking. Kiana Jones ended up coming so I didn't feel like a third wheel."

"I don't see why you wanted to go in the first place. Or bring me along, for that matter. It was clearly supposed to be an intimate event."

If his eyes hadn't been so focused on merging onto the highway, he would have noticed the clear disappointment flash across her eyes, making them even bluer. "Gigi's my best girl friend and you're my best friend. It was supposed to be fun and intimate."

He doesn't want to tell Teresa that the only ever reason he ever tolerated Gigi was because the two girls were close friends. He had found Gigi to be obnoxious and too aware of her beauty from the moment he first met her.

"Maybe another time." He says, to make Teresa happy.

They part ways once they get to the University and promise to make plans for lunch. Thomas is starting to feel a dull ache in his head as he makes his way to Advanced Calculus, his first class of the day. 

Minho's in far brighter spirits than he is. He, Sonya, and Harriet are all in their usual seats in the back, discussing the party.

"If the room had been bigger and we had my parents' pool outside, it would have been on my par with my Christmas party junior years." Minho tells them, full of confidence.

"All the girls were talking about it in the bathrooms this morning," Sonya says supportively.

"Even Newt enjoyed it and you know he feels about parties," Harriet reminds them, attracting Thomas's attention.

"How does he feel about parties?" He asks.

"He doesn't like them." Minho says dismissively. "He told me they're too 'intimate'."

Sonya rolls her eyes. "Newt's just a big kid at heart. He doesn't want to grow up and to him, parties are a sign of growing up."

Thomas lets that sink in as Gally and his goons, Ben, Winston, and Zart, enter the classroom. Gally makes it a point to distinctively glare at Thomas, who can't muster it in himself to return the favor.

"What a jerk," Harriet says, rolling her eyes. "He thinks he's all better than the rest of us because he's the size of an Olympic athlete. I'm Team Thomas, all the way."

Sonya giggles. "Team Thomas! I like that. It sounds like we're in a cult."

Thomas wants to tell them what Newt told him, but he's not sure if that information is supposed to be common knowledge. He's not even sure how Newt found out about the story and whether or not, Gally wanted his private information buzzing around the campus.

"Huh. Team Thomas. I'm in." Minho snorts, clearly finding the whole thing more amusing than serious.

"You four in the back!" Professor Janson glares back up at them, causing the four to freeze. "Do I have to kick you out of my class again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, I don't think I'll ever update this quickly again! (but never say never ;) thank you guys for positive feedback! I really wasn't sure how this was going to be received, but you've encouraged me to keep going :)  
> i'm going away on vacation so third chapter will hopefully be Thursday, but no promises.  
> comment and kudos please, if you like it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't you think it's all happening too fast?" Newt asks suddenly, with wide eyes.
> 
> "Pardon?"
> 
> "This whole growing up thing. It's all happening too fast. We're in college, sharing beers, when it feels like just yesterday, Sonya and I were digging around in mud."
> 
> or where Thomas goes to Minho's Halloween party without Teresa, where Newt's dressed as Peter Pan, where Sonya begins to tell him a secret, and where he meets a new friend. {october}

"Gigi invited us to a Halloween party at the Lake." Teresa tells Thomas on the drive to school one morning. "You have to come."

"The last time we went to one of Gigi's Halloween parties, you ended up so drunk  _you_ tried to pee in the plants."

Teresa's cheeks turn a deep shade of burgundy and she punches him in the shoulder. "You promised you'd stop talking about it, asshole! And I can control myself, alright?"

"I don't see why you want to go," Thomas continues, ignoring the insult. "Minho's having a costume party and since you didn't go to the last party, you should come to this one."

"You also didn't go on the camping trip last time so  _you_ should come to this one. You know, spend time with our friends?"

He doesn't want to point out that they're more  _her_ friends than his friends. Instead, he merges onto the highway and reminds her, "T, going to college means branching out and making  _new_ friends. You see Gigi and them every weekend."

She rolls her eyes. "And you see these guys every day. I'm sure they can do without you for one night."

"As I'm sure Gigi can do without you for one weekend."

They fall into an uncomfortable silence. The quiet, sullenness of the car's atmosphere creates an itchy blanket over Thomas's skin. When he normally argues with Teresa, their stubborn personalities erupt into fiery and tense anger. They're normally screaming at each other before making up the next day. He can deal with a screaming Teresa. 

A silent Teresa is someone that unnerves him.

After a while, she sighs dramatically. "My Introduction to Macroeconomics class sucks. My professor, Dr. Paige, hates me. I knew I should have taken AP macro. Who even needs AP micro credits?"

"You know we had this same exact conversation last year? Except I  _told_ you that taking AP micro was a bad idea. And what did you call me?"

"An idiot, which you still are."

"Takes one to know one." He says, continuing their banter and taking the signal that the Halloween conversation is over.

For now.

* * *

"You  _have_ to come!" Sonya proclaims as they're leaving Adv. Calculus, the only class Thomas finds himself looking forward to these days. She's staring at him in horror, as if he's just announced he's planned to kidnap her mother. "You're, like, part of the squad, Thomas. You can't just not come. It wouldn't be the same without you."

"Newt would be practically depressed if you didn't come." Harriet tells him. "You're the only one who hangs around him at parties. He'd make a big fuss and opt out of going and then it would all be boring."

Minho pretends to be insulted. "I'm glad you all think so highly of my parties."

Sonya winks at him. "We're just trying to persuade Thomas that he's an essential part of our group. Not coming is not an option."

Thomas gives her an appreciative smile.

"You don't even like your friends back home," Harriet reminds him. "We're much more interesting."

"And fun," Sonya adds.

"And much more attractive." Minho says confidently. "Seriously Thomas, if you don't come, I'll actually be insulted. I won't speak to you ever again."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?"

Sonya and Harriet burst into laughter while Minho rolls his eyes. "You're such a smart ass, Thomas."

"Okay, I promise I'm coming." He says, trying to suppress his own laughter. "Let's just hope I can convince Teresa."

"There you all are." Newt says, coming up from behind Thomas. "Convince Teresa of what?"

"To go to Minho's Halloween party." Harriet informs him, locking their fingers together. "She wants to go to this other thing with their friends instead."

Newt immediately looks to Thomas. "You are coming, though. Aren't you?"

"Of course he is." Sonya says before Thomas can even blink. " _Someone_ has to babysit you while you sulk in the corner."

Minho and Harriet snicker while Newt rolls his eyes. "Shut up, you twit. What's the fun, anyways? You drink, you dance, you drunkenly hook up with someone, and then you move on the next day. It's all so ... trivial."

"Oh no, not this again." Minho exhales dramatically and starts steering the group towards the parking lot. "Are we going to get dinner or is Newt going to lecture us about not growing up?"

"You're the worst. Actually, you're the worst of the worst."

"And you love me anyways," Minho winks.

* * *

"You should have came." Thomas tells Teresa on the phone Saturday night, as he stands outside the Hall A dormitories.

"No,  _you_ should be  _here_." Teresa's voice comes in crackled through the line. The reception at the Lake was always terrible, causing him to rejoice when she picked up his call. "They miss you, Tom. I miss you."

"You saw me yesterday."

"It's not the same and you know it. We used to always go to these things together. We could have come in those awful twin costumes, like Thing One and Thing Two."

Thomas bursts into laughter when he remembers the twin costumes their mothers used to make them wear. "How about the spaghetti and meatball costumes when we were seven?"

"Oh, I remember! I was the cutest meatball ever."

"No you weren't. You kept crying because you wanted to be spaghetti."

"Well you were being such a bully! I was supposed to be the spaghetti until you wrestled me for it."

"Did you wear a costume tonight?" He asks.

"Sort of. I'm supposed to be Princess Jasmine, hence the blue crop top and floaty pants. Please tell me you're Aladdin."

He looks down at his baseball pants, sneakers, and Mets jersey. "If I do, will you come to Minho's?"

She laughs into the phone. "I have to go, Tom. I think someone's phone fell into the fire."

"Be safe."

"You too, um, slinthead? Is that what they say? That's the affectionate one, right?"

He laughs this time. "Bye, shank."

He hangs up the phone and finds his way to the elevator, punching in the button to Minho and Newt's floor.

By the time he gets off the elevator, he can already hear the drunken roar of college freshmen. He makes his way down the outdoor catwalk to the room and is immediately greeted by Sonya, who is the farthest thing from sober.

"Thooooommmmas!" She exclaims, drawing out his name like a song. He decides his name sounds better sung like that with a British accent before she wraps her exposed arms around his shoulder and nuzzles her face close to his. "You're here. You're here, Thomas."

Gently, he pries Newt's sister off of his body and tries to get her standing straight. She's wearing a skimpy black romper - with a  _very_  low neckline - and thigh high black boots. He's judging by the whiskers drawn with make-up on her face that she's supposed to be a cat.

"How are you, Sonya?" He asks.

She grins, flashing him all her teeth, and he can't help but compare her to her brother's face. They have the same eyes and the same nose, but her grin emphasizes her round cheeks and dimples. When Newt grins, his eyes narrow in a playful, boyish way to signify that he's up to no good.

" _Purrrrr-_ fect!" She drawls in her endearing accent, coming even closer to him. Her arms wrap slowly around his shoulders and she's pushing their bodies backwards, her breath crawling on his neck, before his back hits Minho's twin bed. "You're so pretty, Thomas. All the girls say so. Even -"

He's already prying her off his body again and carefully pushing her onto Minho's bed. "Here, Sonya. Why don't you stay here while I get Newt? Sound good?"

Sonya crinkles her nose and violently shakes her head. "No, no. That won't do. Newt would make me go back to my dorm. Stay with me, Thomas. Lay down with me, won't you? I'll tell you the story of how Newt and I found out we weren't twins after all."

As much as he wants to hear the story, Thomas knows what happens when you overstep your boundaries with an intoxicated friend. If Newt - and Sonya, herself - wanted him to know the story, he'd know it when they were both in the right state of mind.

"Stay right here, Sonya. Okay?  _Don't_ move." He commands before backing away from the bed.

She giggles but it sounds harsher and more haunting than her sweet laugh. "So demanding, aren't you? Like my father. Like my no good, rotten, asshole of a father. You'd love the bloody bastard."

He'd already turned away from the blonde, but her words chill his spine. In the two months he's known Sonya, she'd never said anything so unforgiving about someone in that cold tone.

He turns back to her but she's become preoccupied with Minho's pillow and he no longer has her attention.

Newt's next to the bathroom, where he always is, but this time he has two beers in his hand. "Tommy, you made it! I was almost getting worried for a second."

He's dressed in a complete Peter Pan outfit: a loose green tee shirt, tight green leggings, a green pointy hat, and tan moccasins. He smirks at Thomas, his doe like brown eyes twinkling mischievously under the Christmas lights strung around their dorm, emphasizing the freckles splashed across his face.

"Your sister tried to seduce me." Thomas blurts out, watching Newt's reaction carefully. He looks dazed, as if he's not mentally in the same room as Thomas. "I set her down by Minho's bed."

Newt nods vigorously, as if Thomas has told him ground-breaking news. "That'll do. You're a smart one, Tommy. Minho likes beds very much. Have a beer."

Thomas takes the second can off Newt's hands, pressing the cold metal to his lips and letting the liquor spill into his mouth. "How many have you had?"

"The second star to the right."

Thomas sighs and looks across the room to check on Sonya, who's no longer alone. Ben, from their Adv. Calculus class, is sitting on the bed with her, far closer than Thomas would prefer.

"Hey, Newt - I think Ben's flirting with your sister. They're sitting very close to each other and -"

"Don't you think it's all happening too fast?" Newt asks suddenly, with wide eyes.

"Pardon?"

"This whole growing up thing. It's all happening too fast. We're in college, sharing beers, when it feels like just yesterday, Sonya and I were digging around in mud."

Thomas's mind flashes back to childhood memories of him and Teresa making mud pies and getting dirt caked in their fingernails. A wave of nostalgia for simpler times rolls over him and he suddenly needs more alcohol in his system.

He raises his eyebrow and asks, "What are you trying to say?"

Newt's starting to have trouble balancing himself, tell-tale signs to Thomas that he's past buzzed and has reached drunk. But he's never looked more present than he does right in this moment.

He struggles with his words for a little while before he says somewhat coherently, "I never wanted to grow up. Growing up meant - well, it means .... I guess I'm just ... everything, I think, is so dark and harsh and  _honest_. People are honest with you, when you're grown up. People are more expectant of you, more hard on you, more everything."

Thomas is quiet for a moment, debating his words. "What's wrong with being honest?"

Newt looks at him darkly. "It means you know the truth - the whole, messy, fucked up truth. When you're a kid, everything is perfect, you see. You believe your family is perfect and can do no wrong. And then, they're honest."

"So you're saying it's better to be lied to than told the truth?"

"Precisely."

"But Newt -"

" _There_ you are!" Harriet exclaims, as if Newt hadn't been in the same exact spot he'd been at all night. She's dressed as Tiger Lily: her dark, curly hair pulled back into braids and a tight blue headband wrapped around her forehead. She's wearing a brown mini dress with strappy sandals and bright red lipstick. "Hi Thomas! Did you see Sonya and Ben?"

He nods. "I was surprised, myself."

"I wasn't. He'd been eyeing her all night and now it looks as if he's got what he wanted."

Newt perks up at that. "What?"

"Oh, relax. They're only hooking up in the bathroom, last I heard."

" _Only_?" _  
_

"Newt," She says in a slightly exasperated tone, as if she were talking to an actual child, clearly refraining from rolling her eyes. "She's a big girl. Let her live. Come with me."

He doesn't look any more relaxed or calm but turns to Thomas with an odd look in his eyes. "Do you have siblings, Tommy?"

"No."

"You wouldn't understand either." He sounds defeated and makes a motion to stand up, but in a sloppy movement he rushes down to his knees, pressing his body against Thomas's. "Keep an eye out for my sister, okay? And don't grow up too much while I'm gone."

Newt's voice comes out in a raspy whisper, his hot breath startling Thomas as it touches his skin. 

But just as soon as it happened, Newt was gone and trailing after Harriet out of the party. And it's then that Thomas notices something about Newt he'd always been aware of, but never really  _noticed._

Newt walks with a limp.

* * *

 As the night wears on and the sky gets blacker, Thomas gets drunker.

For Newt, he keeps a wary eye on Sonya and Ben who are wrapped around each other like monkeys on a tree. Minho's dressed as Michael Jackson: a black, curly wig and a black leather jacket, with black leather pants to match. He's wearing rhinestoned boots that he must've have been just as drunk when he bought them.

Thomas is drinking in a corner when she comes over to him.

She stands out to him because she's not dressed up: she's in a simple black tee shirt and jeans with light red lipstick. Her hair is cut short, resting above her ears, and her olive skin glows under the Christmas lights. "I'm Brenda."

"Thomas." He tries not to slur. She seems like the kind of girl who doesn't appreciate overly drunk guys.

She gives him a half smile. "Are you a friend of Minho's?"

"Yup. Are you?"

She laughs lightly, which reminds Thomas of the church bells he used to hear back home. "Not exactly. I'm Alby's friend, who's friends with Minho."

She points to the taller, dark-skinned boy dancing next to Minho, who's also not dressed up.

"Are you two a couple?" Thomas asks bluntly and this time Brenda full out laughs. He likes the loudness and confidence decorating it; he even thinks it sounds like pure happiness.

"No, Alby and I are not together." She says, her eyes gravitating back to Thomas. "We met last year in our Gender Studies class."

"Ah." Thomas says, suddenly very unsure of what to say. He's having trouble focusing and he just wants to laugh all of a sudden.

Brenda nods her head. "How did you and Minho meet?"

Thomas grins because he finally has a reason to burst out laughing, startling Brenda. "It's a funny story. This kid, Gally, shoved me backwards in class - I swear I went flying - and Minho stood up for me, I think."

It's not as funny as it was in his head when he says it out loud and he can see it all over Brenda's sober face. Still, she pushes a smile. "Oh. I hope you're okay, I guess. That Gally kid sounds like an asshole."

Suddenly Thomas isn't smiling anymore and he feels very, very sad. "He's not an asshole. I mean he is, but - I can't call him that."

"Thomas?" Brenda asks slowly, raising her eyebrow. "Are you all right?"

He retreats back inside his head, blocking the outside world from getting in. If he were Peter Pan, he'd be retreating in the Lost Boys' secret hide out space so that Captain Hook and his goons - in his case, depression - couldn't get inside. He remembers Newt telling him Gally's story and he remembers the sadness he sometimes sees in the boy's eyes, that he tries to hide. 

He also remembers Newt telling him to keep an eye out for his sister.

Thomas's eyes move towards Minho's bed, where he last saw her, but she's no longer there. And neither is Ben.

"Oh my God, oh shit - holy fuck, this is horrible -"

" _Thomas_." Brenda says sharply, but her voice flows into his ears in a soft and soothing manner. His head immediately whips towards her. "What's wrong?"

"Sonya. Have you seen Sonya Newton?"

Brenda frowns. "I'm sorry, I don't know who that is. Is she close to you?"

"She's Newt's sister." He explains, not realizing that Brenda has no clue who Newt is either. "He told me to keep an eye on her."

"Is she twelve?" Brenda asks incredulously. "She's at a college party, she doesn't need to be watched like a dog."

He wants to explain to her that there's something funny going on tonight out of all nights; that normally, Newt and Sonya were cheerful and sarcastic. But tonight, there seemed to be a darker air about them, like they were insatiable to get rid of whatever was bothering them.

But it wouldn't come out right and Brenda doesn't even know who they are and suddenly Thomas wishes for the millionth time that night that Teresa were here.

But before he can say anything, the music stops and all eyes turn towards Minho, who's standing in the middle of the room.

Still in his Michael Jackson costume, he points towards Frypan. Frypan can barely stifle in his laughter as he presses play again on the stereo.

Immediately, everyone starts cheering as Michael Jackson's "Bad" floods through the speakers and into their ears. No one can stop laughing as Minho horribly attempts to mimic the famous choreography. 

Thomas's somber mood fades into something close to content as he smiles on and watches his friend. He doesn't notice Brenda, out of the corner of his eye, watching him with curious eyes.

* * *

"Tommy. Tommy, wake up." A soft, low voice whispers above him. "Thomas."

Thomas's eyes reluctantly flutter open to see Newt hovering above him. His mouth is dry and his throat feels swollen, while there seems to be raging thunderstorm going on his head. He feels positively rotten while Newt looks like he could run a marathon in three hours.

"Ah, you  _are_ awake! I was hoping you were because I was getting quite lonely."

Thomas rubs his eyes, in an attempt to wake himself up more, and starts to sit up in the bed, before realizing he's in Newt's bed. "Oh crap, I'm sorry, let me -"

"Don't worry about it, mate." Newt says dismissively, sitting back down at the end of his bed. "You look tired."

His head is beginning to throb, his heart is pounding out of his chest, his eyes are burning, his throat has become too inflamed for him to swallow down saliva, and his stomach is starting to roar: he hopes he only looks "tired".

"What time is it?"

"1:30."

"In the  _afternoon_?"

Newt looks amused by his slightly shrill voice. "Figured I'd try and wake you up. Minho's a bear if I wake him up before three."

Thomas rushes to try and get out of the bed, but ends up getting tangled in the sheets and falling off of the bed in a cocoon. "Shit."

Newt laughs as Thomas tries to sort himself out and redeem himself, while trying to ignore the thundering in his head. "You have a bloody hangover, don't you? I'll go fetch you a Tylenol and some water."

Newt disappears into the bathroom while Thomas silently curses and tries to prevent himself from throwing up.

"I hope you don't have to throw up." Newt says, as if he has some sort of sixth sense, coming back with a glass of tap water and two Tylenol pills.

Thomas weakly shakes his head as he accepts the gracious gifts. "I do, however, feel like I decided to pound a hammer against my head for six hours and swallow sandpaper."

"At least you're awake," Newt chuckles. "This shank is barely breathing."

Thomas does find himself concerned by Minho's infrequent and slow chest rises, which indicate that he is indeed somewhat alive. 

"Again, man, I'm sorry to intrude on your bed, I don't even remember that happening."

Newt waves him off again. "It's not like you were intruding. I wasn't sleeping on it."

"Oh yeah," Thomas says as he realizes Newt must not have been in the dorm the entire night. "Where were you?"

"I was with Harriet," He says, scratching his neck, as a rosy color tints his cheeks. "I can't say waking up to Sonya shouting, " _Cooties!_ " at me was a terrific start to the morning."

Thomas snorts. "I better get going. My mom is probably worried that I haven't called."

"Are you hungry?" Newt asks as they slide around each other, so that Newt is back against the bed and Thomas is inching towards the door. "I haven't eaten all morning and I'm in the mood for pancakes. There's this spectacular diner across the street that makes breakfast until two - which is why I finally woke you up. Say you'll come?"

His phone is telling him that he should not go and he should return home to his mother who has called him nine times and that he should let Teresa know that yes, he's alive.

His stomach is telling him that pancakes are good for the soul and will cure his massive hangover.

"I'm in."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update! i'm still on vacation so updates are a little more infrequent. i hope you guys are enjoying the story so far, i know things seem really slow so far but i promise it's just because the characters are still getting to know each other and the story is still in the beginning.  
> please comment and leave kudos, if you will! you're all the loveliest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let’s have our own Thanksgiving.” Minho declares before the silence can get too awkward. “We can order a bunch of food and have music and someone buy us wine so we’re classy.”
> 
> “Aren’t we supposed to be saving money, instead of spending it?” Sonya points out.
> 
> “Consider it an investment into our future.” Minho decides. 
> 
> “Our future of what?” Newt asks, clearly humored by the idea.
> 
> “Of being together. Of being like a family.” Minho tells them, looking inspired. “The Glade family. The Maze Runners.” {november}

“That sounds wonderful, Mary!” Thomas’s mother chirps into her phone from behind him in the kitchen. “I’m looking forward to seeing you then.”

She hangs up the phone and pushes her body to the kitchen counter to open her cookbook. “Thomas, we’re having Thanksgiving with Teresa’s family again. We’ve divided up the cooking duties.”

“Mhm.” Thomas mumbles absentmindedly, his attention captured by the video game in front of him. His cell phone beeps next to him, signaling texts from his group chat with Minho, Newt, Sonya, and Harriet.

_Sonya: Thomas, can you get here by 5 instead? The movie’s still at 6:30 but we wanted to grab dinner first._

_Harriet: Then after, drinks on Minho!_

_Minho: As if._

His mother says something behind him again but he just mumbles once more and pauses the game to unlock his phone.

_Harriet: Seriously though, what are the after plans?_

_Sonya: Can’t make any after plans, sorry :(_

_Newt: What, you have a hot date or something?_

_Minho: As if._

Thomas snorts, which eventually turns into laughter. His mother looks up with curious eyes, to see what seems to be her son laughing to himself. “Thomas.”

“Huh?” He asks distractedly, looking between her and his phone.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m trying to plan out Thanksgiving here. A little help from your end would be appreciated.”

_Sonya: Stfu_

_Harriet: Well, Sonya’s out. Anyone else?_

_Thomas: Sure._

_Newt: Sure._

_Minho: As if._

_Harriet: Minho, I swear to God._

“Thomas!”

“Okay!” He exclaims, almost dropping his phone on the couch to hold his hands up in surrender. “No need to yell.”

She looks at him incredulously, as if she wants to throw the cookbook in her hands at him. 

“What were we talking about?”

“ _I_  was telling you that we’re spending Thanksgiving with Teresa’s family again. You were on your phone. Who in the world needs so much of your attention? Teresa only lives across the street.”

“Some friends from school. Made plans to hang out with them later today.” He mumbles inaudibly, turning his attention away from her again.

_Minho: U already know I’m in._

_Sonya: Don’t have too much fun without me :(_

_Newt: Why can’t you make it anyways?_

“The ones with those interesting names!” His mom exclaims. “Sonya and Harriet, and um -“

“Newt and Minho.” He grumbles, wishing she would stop being so nosy.

_Sonya: Just got a tutor for our Adv. Calc class. We’re meeting after the movie._

_Thomas: You couldn’t have just asked one of us?_

_Harriet: Is it a cute boy?_

_Newt: I’m telling mum_

_Sonya: Of course it's a cute boy ;)_

_Sonya: Grow up, Peter Pan_

“What are your plans?” He hears his mom ask somewhere in the back of his mind. He continues to stare at his phone, rather than asking her to repeat herself.

_Minho: Here are the after plans: stalking Sonya’s date._

_Sonya: It’s not a date!_

_Thomas: If it wasn’t a date, you would have just asked one of us._

_Harriet: Actually Thomas, Sonya did try to seduce you at the Halloween party. Maybe you’re next._

_Minho: Omg wut_

_Sonya: I was DRUNK_

_Sonya: I don’t even REMEMBER that_

_Sonya: Omg Harriet bye_

“Earth to Thomas? Do I have to throw this cookbook at you to get your attention for  _one_  second?”

_Newt: This is priceless_

_Sonya: Fuck you, I hate you all_

_Newt: Except Tommy!_

_Thomas: Can we talk about last week when Minho tried to hit on Newt instead??_

_Minho: NO_

_Newt: NO_

_Sonya: YES_

_Harriet: So this is what happens when I go to the bathroom..._

Thomas is just about to send the picture he has on his phone of a highly intoxicated Minho, ungracefully draped over an even more intoxicated Newt’s lap when he feels a crushing weight collide into the side of his head. Out of sheer shock more than pain, he drops his phone at his feet and clutches the side of his head to see his mother’s cookbook right beside him.

He turns to her, fully irritated now, angry words ready to fire out of his mouth. “Did you just throw a cookbook at me?”

“I needed your attention. Did it hurt?”

"Well not, but -"

"If it hurt, then I'm sorry. What are you planning on helping me bake for the dinner? I've got the turkey down."

He wants to act childish and ignore her since she just threw a cookbook at him. 

But the adult in him reminds him that she won’t let him use the car tonight if he continues to ignore her.

He sighs. “How about pumpkin pie?”

* * *

“My parents are going to  _Venice_  for the holiday.” Minho complains the following Tuesday during a break time. “They didn’t even buy me a ticket!”

“Probably because they’re paying your tuition?” Harriet reminds him in a joking manner.

He rolls his eyes. “At least you get to go home. The rest of us, bums, have to stay here in this dump.”

“Who are you calling a bum?” Sonya asks.

“And what dump?” Newt adds.

They’re all in a circle outside on the quad, enjoying the pleasant November breeze. Newt and Harriet are leaning back against the large, maple oak tree; Harriet drawing patterns on Newt's knee. Sonya's lying on the grass, reading her fashion magazine, while Thomas and Teresa are checking for updates on the Mets. Minho’s the only one in a sour mood, directing his gaze towards the two. “Please tell me you two have awful plans for Thanksgiving too.”

Teresa smiles apologetically and looks towards Thomas. “Actually, Thomas and his mom are coming over. It’s like a tradition we have. We spend it together every year.”

Sonya raises her eyebrows and smiles. “Ah. That sounds fun.”

Thomas almost invites them all to come over as well before he realizes he’s not hosting Thanksgiving at his house.

“What are your plans, Harriet?” He asks.

“I’m flying back home to Colorado next week. I’m staying there for the two weeks we have off to visit family and such.”

“Be very thankful your parents aren’t going to Venice without you.” Minho adds bitterly.

“God, Minho,  _I’d_  go to Venice without you.” Sonya rolls her eyes. “You’re so spoiled.”

“Oh please. Like you’re any better.”

“Are you guys going home for the holiday?” Teresa asks Sonya and Newt.

An uncomfortable look crosses over Newt’s face before Sonya answers quickly, “Thanksgiving’s not a national holiday in England. It’s very American.”

Teresa chuckles. “Oh, I totally forgot that. I bet your parents miss you though.”

Even Sonya tenses at the question but she manages to force a smile. Thomas never got a chance to mention to Teresa that Sonya and Newt’s parents generally stay out of the conversation, for reasons he has yet to figure out.

“They call every so often.” Newt said briskly, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

“Let’s have our own Thanksgiving.” Minho declares before the silence can get too awkward. “We can order a bunch of food and have music and get someone to buy us wine so we’re classy.”

“Classy.” Harriet scoffs.

“Aren’t we supposed to be saving money, instead of spending it?” Sonya points out.

“Consider it an investment into our future.” Minho decides. 

“Our future of what?” Newt asks, clearly humored by the idea.

“Of being together. Of being like a family.” Minho tells them, looking inspired. “The Glade family. The Maze Runners.”

It was a running joke at the University, that the football field resembled more of a maze than an actual field. Instead of traditional horizontal yard lines to separate the turf, there were no yard lines. Simple lines were drawn in lazy patterns up and down the field instead. Newt told Thomas once that it had been the plot of drunk seniors getting ready to graduate and leave their legacy, and even though it seemed far-fetched, Thomas believed him.

Thomas chuckles. “Since when did you become a motivational speaker?”

“Ever since I got this brilliant idea. Thomas, Teresa - you’re invited, of course. We can invite the whole damn school.”

“The whole damn school is going home.” Harriet reminds him. “The only people left are going to be you three.”

“Oh crap,” Sonya exclaims, suddenly checking her phone. “I have two minutes to get across campus for my Pattern Drawing class. Kisses!”

After she scrambles to collect their belongings and dart off, the group begins to unravel. Harriet kisses Newt on the cheek before heading off to her Adv. English Literature tutoring session while Minho spots a pretty sophomore he wants to flirt with.

"Not that you're not all lovely people." He says while he's getting up. "But I highly doubt any of you want to end up in my bed tonight."

Newt snorts. "Thanks for that, roommate."

“How charming." Teresa says as he makes his way off and turns to Thomas to ask, "Do you have any classes next?” 

“Not for the rest of the day.” 

“Oh, me neither.” Newt tells him. “You can both come back to my dorm; Minho bought a new Xbox last weekend and we have yet to play it. I also would rather not be alone when he comes back to the dorm.”

“I’m in.” He says with a smile, before looking to Teresa for her confirmation.

She scratches behind her ear and looks away. “I, uh, thought you maybe wanted to go home. I have a Macro exam tomorrow and I’m in need of a miracle.”

He checks the time on his phone. “It’s only 10:30. We could head back around 3 and still have plenty of time.”

“Actually, that’s okay. I’ll go to the library, I think another guy from my class will be there. He can help me study.” She says, finally connecting their eyes.

He nods, but since she's looking at him expectantly, he continues, “Cool, okay. You might want to stay longer then? Text me whenever you’re ready.” 

She stares at him for a second, her cheeks slightly pink, and her eyebrows raised. She almost looks like she doesn’t believe him. “Okay.”

She takes off afterwards, hastily grabbing her backpack and cell phone, and heads towards the library without another word.

Thomas frowns. “Hm. I'm not sure why she wanted to go home so early.”

He turns towards Newt, who watched Teresa hurry away with a sort of curious glint in his eyes.

Newt’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “You’re asking me? I don’t know, Tommy, I think you’re not seeing the bigger picture here.”

“What bigger picture?”

Newt almost looks amused with his lips curled into a smirk. “The more time you spend worrying about it, the less time I have to kick your ass at Mario Kart. Ready?”

“Kick my ass? That's golden from the guy who can barely place _last!"_

* * *

“The turkey is  _divine_ , Claire!” Mary Agnes gushes, between bits of roasted turkey sprinkled with seasoning and gravy and sips of white wine. “It gets better each year.”

Thomas’s phone buzzes next to him. He quickly slides it out of his pocket before his mother can catch him.

_Minho: Come by after your dinner with Teresa. We’ve got beer and chocolate, which should be your second incentive to come._

_Thomas: And my first?_

_Minho: Getting a chance to spend the holiday with me. Duh._

_Thomas: You’re so conceited, Minho. So conceited!_

Thomas’s mother smiles and passes the peas over to Teresa. “My grandmother’s secret basil recipe. It's been working wonders for years!”

While their mothers gush over recipes, Teresa rolls her eyes and whispers next to him, “You’d think this conversation would have died out by now.”

“I swear if I hear another 30 minute conversation about the miracle of basil, I might stick my head in the oven.”

“Oh. Like Sylvia Platt.”

“Yeah but I’d take you with me.”

“Gosh darn it, aren’t you just the sweetest thang?” She says, her voice rising a little bit as she mocks her mother’s southern drawl.

Mary Agnes stops her conversation to turn to her daughter. “Teresa, are you mocking me again? Claire, this girl is driving me crazy. One time when we were in the supermarket, shopping for some vegetables, I picked up a can of beans -“

 _“Mom_ , no one wants to hear this story from  _six_  months ago.” Teresa cuts in. She turns to her father at the head of the table, with a pleading look in her eyes, “Daddy? Please make her stop.”

Whereas Mary Agnes has a sharp, feminine, southern drawl, Mark Agnes speaks with a low but powerful voice. Instead of indulging either Teresa or her mother, he asks, “How’s school going, Thomas?”

“Not too bad, actually. I thought the transition would be hard but it’s going a lot better than I expected.”

“That’s wonderful, Thomas!” Mary chirps, looking directly at Thomas with a smile. “I’m glad you and Teresa have each other. I couldn’t imagine anyone better to be with our daughter.”

Teresa coughs into her sparkling cider, her cheeks slightly pink. 

He watches her carefully before replying, “That’s what best friends are for, right?”

She nods her head but doesn’t meet his eyes. Instead she turns to his mother, “Thank you again, Claire, for the turkey. It’s delicious.”

When they’re all pleasantly stuffed, Thomas and Teresa collect all the dirty dishes and bring them into the kitchen. Thomas always liked the Agnes’s kitchen because of the large glass-stained windows facing the backyard, the low-rise sparkling chandelier, and the tube television placed in front of the sink. When they were middle schoolers, he’d always make Teresa do the dishes by herself so he could sit in the comfy chair and watch whatever game was playing.

“It’s only 8:30,” He remarks as he hands a wet plate over to her to dry. “Minho invited us to come up for the dinner.”

She raises her eyebrows. “It’s a 40 minute drive. Would we make it?”

“Yeah.”

“Where would we’d stay?”

“I’ll crash with Minho and Newt. I’m sure Sonya and Harriet wouldn’t mind you staying with them.”

“I don’t know, Tom,” She says slowly, pausing her duties. “Why don’t we stay here tonight? Watch a movie up in my room, like old times?”

“We do that all the time.” He reminds her, pushing a wet wine glass in her direction. “In fact, we did that last night.”

“Yeah but you were distracted.” She says a little sharply. “You could barely keep your eyes off your phone.”

“Newt was texting me the play by play of the game you refused to watch.” He tells her defensively, turning off the water faucet. 

She rolls her eyes and sighs, “Dear God, is it too much to ask for your attention sometimes? I swear it’s like you’re not even in the same room with me anymore when we hang out because you’re texting or tweeting or Facebook-ing them.”

“I’m giving you my attention now.”

“You always have something smart to say, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t be such a smart ass if I didn’t, now would I?”

He can see her indignant demeanor starting to crumble as she turns away from him, a smile beginning to appear on her face. “You’re insufferable. You’re absolutely repulsive.”

“You’re vile.”

“You’re the worst.”

“You’re vicious.”

“You’re -“

“Going to come with me back up to the Glade?” He finishes for her with a smirk. 

She rolls her eyes again and smacks him with a dish towel. "Only because my mother's going to find some household chore for me to do if I don't."

* * *

By the time they arrive back at the Glade, it’s nearly 10:00 but the party is nowhere near over.

Minho greets them enthusiastically when they make their way into the dimly lit cafeteria. “Teresa! Good to see you here.”

She smiles at him warmly. “Thanks for inviting us.”

Minho’s transformed the cafeteria from a bland, gray walled eating center into a high school dance. All the tables are pushed towards the walls, except for two right in the center of the room, where people clearly had eaten at earlier in the night. Cheap streamers line the walls and music softly pumps out of Minho’s stereo next to the punch bowl.

“Who are they?” Thomas asks, pointing to a group of unfamiliar kids in the corner near Newt.

“Jeff, Clint, Aris, and Rachel.” Minho says, pointing them out one by one. “I only know Rachel. Isn’t she pretty?”

Thomas is just about to roll his eyes and make a witty remark when someone brushes by him. “Hi Thomas.”

It’s Brenda.

He can tell by the airiness of her voice laced with power before he even turns around. She’s got on her classic red lipstick and a simple white halter top, but her beauty shines bright under the dim lights. 

He clears his throat and smiles politely. “Hey Brenda. I didn’t know you were here.”

“Now you do.” She says, pursing her lips into a smirk before walking away.

Minho watches her walk away before raising his eyebrows to Thomas in a suggestive manner.

“Wash your mind out with soap before you say anything.” Thomas warns him.

“Who’s that?” Teresa asks, her eyes still trailing after Brenda.

“Brenda Salazar, also known as the hottest sophomore at Glade.” Minho tells her. “I invited her to my Halloween party last month, hoping to get her number, but Thomas cock-blocked me.”

“What?”

“He’s overreacting,” Thomas shakes his head firmly. “I was drunk and we had a nice conversation.”

“Ah.” Teresa said in an unconvincing manner. “So are we just going to stand here?”

They finally move about the room, avoiding Gally and his minions, who don’t seem to notice Thomas. He sees Sonya and Ben in their own little corner of the room, with their heads bent towards each other, and decides to keep moving.

He gravitates towards Newt later into the party, who’s standing by the punch bowl and observing it.

“Gally made it.” Newt explains, as if standing in front of the punch bowl is perfectly normal behavior. “Is American punch normally brown?”

“I don’t think I’d trust it if I were you.”

Newt’s about to respond when they both hear Gally’s brooding voice from behind. “Who invited this piece of klunk?”

“Klunk?” Thomas repeats, turning around to face him. 

“He sure looks like a klunk,” Ben sneers, not attached to Sonya’s hip anymore.

“Are you all so stupid that you have to come up with insults nobody understands?”

There are warning signs that Gally’s not quite sober. Perhaps it’s the red forming in his cheeks, or the way his eyes move lazily around Thomas, or the beer he’s holding in his left hand that should tell Thomas he ought to be a little more careful with his words.

“Well are you going to be stupid and try to challenge me again, you wimp?”

“It’s nothing more than challenging a baby.” Thomas snaps, before his mind can register what’s going on.

Winston’s eyes widen while Zart’s mouth drops in utter shock. Ben has a murderous look in his eyes and his fists are beginning to clench.

But it’s Gally who swings his fist towards Thomas; it’s Thomas whose instincts kick in, before he, himself, can comprehend what’s happening; and it’s poor Newt whose jaw it is that Gally’s fist collides with.

All three parties stare at each other in shock, with open mouths and wide eyes, unable to break the silence. 

“Are you  _fucking_ kidding me?” Minho yells in rage, coming towards Gally in a thunder of fury. “Did you seriously just punch him in the face?”

“Get out of here, Minho. I wasn’t trying to hit Newt, I was trying to hit Thomas!”

“No one told you to hit Thomas in the first place!” Minho fires back, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.

Thomas turns towards Newt, who has his hand placed over his injured jaw. “Newt, I am so sorry -“

“It’s not your fault, Tommy.” Newt says with a bit of difficulty, as he tries not to move his jaw too much. “I’m bloody glad you had the sense to duck or else he would have flogged you in the eye.”

“Sit down,” Thomas tells him, trying his best to ignore Minho and Gally’s screaming match from behind him, and helping Newt to a chair. “You’re going to need ice -“

“Oh dear God, what happened?” Teresa asks, her voice filled with a sort of maternal concern, when she approaches the two.

“Gally tried to punch me in the face but ended up crushing Newt’s jaw.” Thomas explains, keeping his eyes on Newt as he kneels in front of him. “Can I see it?”

Newt slowly removes his hand as Teresa exclaims, “He tried to punch you? What an asshole!”

The words hang over him like a gray cloud, about to explode with rain. He turns to his friend and asks, “Teresa could you find us some ice, please?”

She nods her head before hurrying off towards the exit of the cafeteria, giving Newt a look of pity.

“Is it common knowledge?” He quietly asks Newt. “Is it common knowledge that Gally’s little brother died? Don’t speak too much - just nod or shake your head.”

Newt slowly shakes his head.

“So  _I’m_  the asshole because I can’t say anything about it,” He says, ignoring Newt shaking his head once more. “I provoked him! You saw it. I should never have even said a word to him. Now people think Gally’s an asshole because they don't know the truth.”

Newt looks at him in disbelief, a frown curling over his eyebrows, and his left hand still clutching his sore mouth. He uses his right hand to point to his jaw. “Are you saying he’s not an asshole?”

“Well, no but -“

“Tommy, he came over to you in the first place. He knew you have a bit of temper around him and purposefully insulted you - by the way, klunk means shit. So he, technically, did provoke you first. And sure, you shouldn’t have further insulted him but don’t tell about his brother, okay? That’s his secret, not ours.” He can tell by Newt’s slurred words that the more he talks, the more pain his jaw endures.

Instead of pursuing the conversation and further irritating Newt’s jaw, he begins to tell him a story to distract the both of them.

He would later claim it was to pass the time.

“When I was younger, my father used to take me to the park to play football. He really wanted me to be a professional football player when I grew up. One time, during practice, I was throwing the ball around with another kid, who had far more skill than I did. He aimed at the ball towards me, and executed a perfect toss, but the ball collided with my face. I had a bruised cheekbone for three weeks but my father never understood why I stopped wanting to play football.”

Newt chuckles at first, clearly amused but too much in pain to laugh or ask further questions. His eyes are directly on Thomas; like there’s not a fight brewing between Minho and Gally, like he’s present in this moment, both physically and mentally.

Sonya suddenly appears by their side, her eyes wild with concern. “What happened? I go to the bathroom for two minutes and Minho’s screaming at Gally, Teresa’s running around the halls like a mad woman looking for ice, and you’re in the corner injured.”

Thomas explains what transpired, including the parts where he provoked Gally into trying to punch him, but how Gally ended up punching Newt’s jaw instead.

“What a bloody bastard!” Sonya exclaims, turning her head to glare at Gally. “I can’t believe how awful he is.”

“But Sonya, I -“

 _Provoked him. I compared his intelligence to that of a baby’s and his baby brother just died a little over six months ago_ , is what he wants to say before Newt makes a sharp noise of pain and Sonya focuses back on her brother again.

His eyes are still on Thomas in a way that telepathically says Newt’s not in any more pain than he was before. Even though Sonya’s telling him to lean back so she can inspect his jaw for further damage, his eyes still remain locked with Thomas’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your kind and lovely comments! i hope you keep enjoying the story :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She asked about my classes.”
> 
> “And what did you say?”
> 
> “What is this? Twenty questions?”
> 
> “So then what did she say?”
> 
> “Teresa!” Thomas rolls his eyes. “I’m not one of your girl friends and this is not a gossip session. We just talked. And then she offered we share a milkshake.”
> 
> or where Thomas learns the truth, where Brenda asks him to lunch, where Sonya reveals another secret, and where his mom surprises him on Christmas morning. {december}

The first thing Teresa does on their way home the next morning is scold him.

“Tom, what were you _thinking_? You weren’t thinking at all! You can’t keep provoking him! You could have been seriously injured!”

He’s still tired and there’s a dull ache in the back of his head. “Teresa, I feel bad enough already.”

“He nearly knocked you out! If you hadn’t ducked, I can’t imagine what would have happened -“

He groans. “If I hadn’t ducked, Newt wouldn’t have a swollen jaw right now.”

She recognizes that he’s not in the most pleasant of moods and stays silent for the rest of the ride, letting the mainstream mixes of electronic music flood the space around them. 

Once they arrive back in their neighborhood and he feels sorry for being in such a bad mood, he offers to buy her a coffee.

She declines. “I was just worried, okay? He already shoved you so hard and you could have had a concussion or something.”

He grins. “T, you worry about _everything_. Even your own birthday.”

She rolls her eyes as she catches the reference. “I wouldn’t have to worry if you were more careful. You think this is funny, don’t you?”

“Absolutely not.” He says, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t. We’re basically adults, Thomas. We have to start acting like them sooner or later.” She says and gives him a hug. 

He waits until he sees her go into her house before starting the engine to head down the street to his own house. He halts when his phone buzzes.

_Newt: Thank you for the Tylenol and diet Coke. I feel better already._

_Thomas: It’s the least I could do_

_Newt: Stop that! I don’t blame you._

_Thomas: Has the pain at least gone away?_

He’s just about to put his phone down so he can finally head back to home when a new text from Teresa pops up.

_Teresa: Stop smiling at your crotch and get out of my driveway._

He looks out of his car window to see Teresa standing behind her own window, smirking down at him.

He flips her off in response before pulling out in reverse, completely unaware of the smile still plastered on his face.

* * *

 

November fades into December, the month of midterms, madness, and mischief. Chill, autumn air turns into light trickles of snow, coating the quad with ice. The cars on the highway move too slow for Thomas or Teresa’s liking so they opt to stay overnight at the Glade, more days out of the week than they’re going home.

One particularly frosty night, Thomas is curled against the heater in Minho and Newt’s dorm, staring at his Adv. Calculus textbook rather than studying it. His eyes drift over to the empty pizza box in the space between Minho and Newt’s beds, his stomach chanting at him.

Thomas is about to offer to call the pizza place, when Minho violently sweeps his own Adv. Calculus textbook off of his bed, yelling in frustration, “Fuck this shit!”

Newt and Thomas look on in surprise.

“Janson’s just going to fail me anyways, there’s no point. He hates us.”

Newt sighs, clearly frustrated with his own work. His jaw has transformed from dark purple to a rosy pink but he’s finally able to chew popcorn again. “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you -“

“Oh, he hates us,” Thomas said. “The only person he likes in our class is Ben, because he’s some sort of math genius.”

Newt rolls his eyes at the name.

“I’m calling for more pizza. By the time I’m back, I want that textbook burned.” Minho announces, grabbing his jacket and Newt’s wallet before stomping out the door.

“Did he just?” Newt’s voice trails off, as if trying to process the fact that his wallet just went out the door.

“He did.” 

“What a bloody bastard!” Newt exclaims, “He’s got more money than I do in his accounts!”

“Tell him to pay you back.” Thomas suggests.

“I’d go after him if these Spanish verbs weren’t killing me.”

“You take Spanish? If you need help, estaría encantado de ayudarle.”

Newt turns to him, raising his eyebrow. “You know Spanish?”

“Teresa’s father is Portuguese; they speak it at home sometimes. They’ve taught me bits and pieces, so I’m conversational, but it's not too different from Spanish.”

Newt looks at him in awe. “So did you teach yourself the language?”

A rosy color brushes Thomas’s cheeks, despite his shivering. “Yeah. Kinda.”

“Kinda? That’s awesome! I can barely make myself do it for a class and you did it all on your own. For nothing, really.”  


I t wasn’t necessarily for nothing. Thomas’s father had once promised to take him to Spain after he finished college. But he doesn’t correct Newt.

“Why are you taking Spanish?”

“Needed the credits. And they didn’t offer what I studied in secondary school.”

“What did you take?”

This time, Newt blushes and averts his eyes before he says, with a voice full of shame, “Ancient Greek.”

“You took Ancient Greek?” Thomas repeats, laughter coating his voice. “Why? Out of all the languages, you took Ancient Greek?”

“Because this bloke, a couple years above me, told me we did nothing in the class. And we didn’t, which was great for me at the time, until I got to university where I actually had to learn a language. We did eat Greek pizza a lot, though.”

By the time Minho makes it back to the dorm, Thomas and Newt have progressed from talking about Greek pizza to their favorite kinds of pizza to their favorite kinds of food to their least favorite meals in their high school cafeterias to their favorite restaurants.

“You’ve never been to In-N-Out Burger? Even _I’ve_ been to In-N-Out Burger and I’ve only been in America for four months.” Newt claims, looking astonished at Thomas’s lack of “decent food” as he named it.

“I’ve never been to California to have it.”

“I went to Nevada and they had one there.”

“Why were you in Nevada?”

“That’s where Minho lives,” Newt says, pointing at the boy who brought in all the cold air. “Or his parents, rather.”

“Where’s the pizza?” Thomas asks, noticing Minho’s empty hands in alarm.

“The place was closed. It is 12 am in the morning.”

Thomas checks his phone, surprised at how late it was. He notices three unread messages from Teresa.

_Teresa: Are you planning on staying the night?_

_Teresa: Hello? Thomas?_

_Teresa: I’ve got a ride home from my dad. Pick me up tomorrow with donuts._

_Thomas: Shit, sorry T! I didn’t see these until now. I’ll be there bright and early with coffee too._

“It’s already midnight?” Newt asks, looking at his abandoned Spanish homework. 

“Yup. I’m going to bed. Here’s an extra pillow, Thomas.” Minho yawns, as he tosses Thomas a pillow from his bed.

As soon as Thomas puts the pillow to the ground, Minho’s snoring softly.

“I forgot to ask him about my wallet.” Newt says, getting up to go over to the boy’s coat. “It’s not even mine, actually. It was my father’s.”

“Why do you hate him?” Thomas asks before he can clamp his mouth shut. He immediately wants to throttle himself for asking such a blunt question and fling himself out of the window.

Newt pauses in his steps, as if debating whether or not he’s going to acknowledge Thomas.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ask, it’s not my business -“

“You haven’t asked before.” Newt says, making eye contact with Thomas, who just wants to die. 

“I wasn’t planning on it, I swear, until you felt ready or something. I mean like, if you ever wanted to. Because you don’t have to. It was stupid of me. I’m sorry.” He feels like such a girl in his word vomit and the room is suddenly getting too _hot_.

Newt shrugs and plops down on his bed, staring at the wallet in his hands. “It’s kinda heavy.”

Thomas tries to be silent, afraid he’s going to say something horrifically stupid. But his brain has other plans. “I get it. My father wasn’t exactly father of the year, either.”

Newt looks at Thomas carefully. “My father met Sonya's mum in college. When we were younger, he used to tell us she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met and he knew he wanted to marry her at first sight. He proposed after they graduated and a couple years later, she became pregnant. He thought he could handle it. He thought he could handle a family but he was scared. Starting a family at 25 apparently scared the bloody hell out of him. So he went to this bar one night and he met another pretty woman; some brilliant alcoholic who preferred running away from her own problems, too. Three months later, she's pregnant too.”

“How did Sonya’s mom take it?” Thomas asks, moving closer to Newt’s bed. He bites his tongue, before adding, “If you don’t mind telling me.”

“She wasn’t exactly happy, of course. But she agreed to raise us together. She even agreed to raise us as “twins”.”

“Twins?” Thomas repeats. “But you were three months apart, you had different birthdays -“

“Not for eighteen years. We both had Sonya’s birthday - February 3rd.”

“ _Eighteen_  years?” Thomas exclaims, his eyes widening. “That’s - but how did you find out?”

“Sonya wanted to get her naval pierced. You can get it pierced without an adult at the age of 16 so she needed proof that she was seventeen. But our parents accidentally gave her _my_ birth certificate. Which proved that I was three months younger than she was. So we found out the truth.”

Thomas digests the news in silence, almost feeling betrayed by Newt’s parents, people he’s never even met. “But why lie and pretend you were twins? Why not just tell you the truth in time?”

“It was more of a cover up for the neighbors and family, I think. We look close enough in age, don’t we?”

“But they never told _you._ Or Sonya.”

“No, they didn’t.”

_When you’re a kid, everything is perfect, you see. You believe your family is perfect and can do no wrong. And then, they’re honest._

Thomas tries to think of something to say, something that would put a smile on his face, something that wouldn’t upset him even more. But he can’t come up with anything better than, “Do you talk to your real mom a lot?”

Newt shrugs indifferently. “I never knew she existed until last year. I tried to make contact with her, but it was just too awkward. The only thing I could get out of her was my name. Our father’s surname is Newton, so she wanted to name me, Isaac. Like Isaac Newton.” 

He gets up and puts his wallet back on his nightstand. “You know, even if Jane's only Sonya’s blood mum, I still consider her mine. She’s a bloody terrific mother for all she’s done and been through.”

Thomas scratches his head, finally at a loss of words. “Damn, I’m sorry Newt. For you and Sonya. You truly deserved better.”

Newt just smiles in return.

* * *

 

A few days later, Thomas has just been royally screwed over by his Chemistry midterm, which he admittedly procrastinated studying for, when she approaches.

“Thomas!” Brenda calls out to him, in the midst of his misery. “How are you?”

“Hey Brenda. Just got fucked over by my Chem exam. What about you?”

Brenda grimaces. “Ah, chemistry. Hated that class, too. I’m pretty hungry, actually. Wanna grab something to eat?”

He’s just about to say no because of how truly miserable he feels by his exam, until he looks her in the eyes and sees her smiling back at him. “You know what? Let’s go to this diner across the street. I don’t have class for another hour.”

When he meets Teresa to head back home four hours later, he’s got a slice of chocolate cake hidden in a box waiting for her.

She furrows her eyebrows. “What’s that?”

He hands it to her before they both slide into the car. “For you. It’s chocolate; your favorite.”

“Thank God, I’m _starving_.” She says as she puts a forkful of cake into her mouth. “Where’d you get this?”

He gives her a look. “Charming. I got lunch with Brenda at that diner you and I went to with Sonya and Newt.”

Teresa raises her eyebrow. “You went to lunch with Brenda? The sophomore who Minho liked?”

“Well, yes. I guess.”

“Do you like her?”

He frowns. “What?”

“Do you have a crush on her?”

“T, I’ve barely known her two months.”

“Do you want to have sex with her?”

“Teresa!”

She shrugs. “She clearly likes you.”

“Sure she does. She complimented my shirt but that’s just about it.”

Teresa glances at his shirt. “It’s just a red polo. What else did she say?”

“She asked about my classes.”

“And what did you say?”

“What is this? Twenty questions?”

“So then what did she say?”

“Teresa!” Thomas rolls his eyes. “I’m not one of your girl friends and this is not a gossip session. We just talked. And then she offered we share a milkshake.”

Teresa’s jaw drops, chocolate caked over her tongue. “Thomas Greene! That was _romantic_ territory. You don’t share a milkshake with just _anyone_.”

“I shared a milkshake with you on the way here.”

“No, that’s not the same. I bought a milkshake and you stole it from me, like you always do. Did you pay for lunch?”

“Yeah, I offered.”

“Tom, you basically encouraged her!”

“You’re mental. Besides, what about that senior you’re always hanging out with? Aren’t you encouraging him?”

She looks away and shrugs. “He’s not the one I’m trying to encourage.”

“Do you have a crush on someone and you’re not telling me?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re not one of my girl friends and this is not a gossip session.”

“Oh, you’re useless.”

* * *

 

A week later, the day before the Glade lets out for a month for Christmas break, Thomas is back in Newt and Minho’s dorm, helping them pack. He gave up on Minho, who simply threw his underwear in a suitcase and began doing push ups in the corner.

He’s holding Newt’s sock before it happens. “Newt, do you have the other -“

Sonya Newton barges in, a red scarf wrapped around her throat, that highlights her rosy cheeks. “I’m dating Ben.”

“-sock?” Thomas finishes after a moment of heavy silence.

“Ben Sheffield? You’re bloody dating Ben Sheffield?” Newt exclaims, dropping the load of laundry he was holding. “Sonya, are you mad?”

“Are you?”

“Yes! He’s a bastard! The worst of them, he… he -“

Even Minho’s gotten up from his mini-workouts on the floor. “He what, Newt?”

Sonya looks at him expectantly.

Newt bites the bottom of his lip, scrunching his forehead. “He’s - He’s a friend of Gally, who nearly broke my jaw if you don’t remember.”

“ _Gally_ broke your jaw, Newt. _Gally_ shoved Thomas across a classroom, nearly giving him a concussion. _Gally_ is the one you don’t like, the asshole.” Sonya points out, unaware of Thomas cringing. “Ben’s not like that. He’s sweet, he’s charming -“

“He’s _Ben_!” Newt interrupted. “Harriet said he had bedroom eyes all over you at the Halloween party!”

Sonya rolls her eyes. “Who said _I_ didn’t have bedroom eyes all over _him_? And tell me Newt, how _is_ Harriet by the way?”

Newt falls silent again. It was no secret that he and Harriet had been arguing more than usual. Newt barely spoke of her anymore and Harriet barely spoke _to_ him anymore.

Minho rolls his eyes. “Sonya.”

She turned toward him, a challenging glare in her eyes. “Minho.”

Thomas recognizes the warning signs of a brewing fight and whispers, “Hey, Newt. Think of it this way; now you have an excuse to kick his ass.”

The frown on Newt’s face cracks an inch. It cracks another three inches before he finally begins to show a centimeter of a smile. It’s about a minute before he actually lets loose a chuckle.

“But, um, Harriet’s, uh, right, Newt. And I’m not taking sides, I promise! Sonya is a big girl. You have to let her live.”

Newt exhales loudly before rolling his head back and looking at Thomas. “I _suppose_ you’re right.”

He turns to Sonya and says sarcastically, “I give you my blessings, dear sister.”

Sonya’s face lights up in return and she throws her arms around Newt’s neck, pretending to kiss him on the cheek. “Aw, my little brudder is giving me his blessings!”

If Thomas hadn’t been so focused on watching Newt trying to pull away from Sonya, yelling for her to get off of him, a smile covering his own face, he would’ve noticed Minho out of the corner of his eye, watching him and Newt curiously.

* * *

_“You think you’re a bad person because you know that provoking him is wrong, but you just don’t know how to make the wrong right.”_ Newt had said, back when his jaw was barely healing, and Thomas was still reeling with guilt.

Now, after Sonya and Ben have announced they’re dating, he knows what he has to do.

Knocking on the door to dorm 451, he waits in the freezing cold for the inhabitants to answer.

Gally looks like he wants to shove him back by the neck to the ledge of the catwalk, and torture him a bit, before pushing him over. “What the hell are you -“

“I’m sorry.” Thomas blurts out. “I’m sorry about your brother. And I’m sorry I provoked you. And said you had the eyebrows of Satan. And compared your intelligence to that of a baby. And that I’ve been letting people call you an asshole, when they should be calling me an asshole, behind your back. And I’m sorry about your brother’s death. And I’m sorry that I know, because clearly you don’t want me to know and I understand -“

Gally had been keeping a relatively perfect poker face up until Thomas said, “your brother’s death”. A glare etched over his features and he narrowed his eyes before spitting out, “How _do_ you know?”

Thomas isn’t about to out Newt that quickly but his lying skills were never exemplary. “I overheard it. In the boys locker room, I think. I don’t remember, I might’ve been drunk -“

“ _Who_ did you hear it from?”

“Gally, I’m sorry. I really am.” 

He quickly walks back towards the elevator, feeling extremely relieved when he hears a door slam behind him. 

* * *

“Merry Christmas, Thomas!” His mother shouts as soon as he descends the stairs Christmas morning.

Still groggy from sleep, he rubs his eyes and frowns. “Hi, Mom.”

“Aren’t you excited to open up your presents?”

The little kid inside of him is bouncing up and down. The little kid inside of him is ready to tear open the wrapping paper, gift by gift, and throw it all over their living room. 

So he obliges his mother a little; letting a smile drift over his face and kissing her on the cheek before rushing over to their fake Christmas tree.

The first present he opens is from his Aunt and Uncle in Seattle. Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer wrapping paper covers the rectangular box before he rips it open.

He nearly drops the box in surprise. “A _MacBook Pro_? You’re kidding me!”

His mother can barely contain her own excitement; teeth flashing through her smile. “It’s for all the birthdays they’ve missed.”

“This is sweet! God, this must have been expensive.”

“You’ll write them thank you letters later, keep going!”

And so he keeps going through his presents: a Visa gift card from his grandparents, a MasterCard gift card from his mom’s friend at the hospital, and an AmEx gift card from his older cousin.

He flashes the cards with his fingers to his mom. “Great variety.”

She points to the three boxes of gold earrings on the table. “It’s the thought that counts. Open the gift from Teresa’s family.”

It’s inside a small box, so he’s hoping it’s not another gift card. Instead, it’s the gold and black G-Shock watch he’d been eyeing for the past two months. 

“No way,” He says incredulously, showing his mother. “This is the watch I told Teresa I wanted, ages ago. I can’t believe she remembered! It was almost $200, I owe her my life.”

“She’s a keeper, isn’t she?” His mom says suggestively, but her words are completely lost on an excited Thomas.

“Newt’s not gonna believe this,” He laughs. “I have to tell him! But wait, I have to thank Teresa first and make sure we’re still meeting for lunch.”

“Wait!” His mother cries out as he reaches for his phone. His hand freezes. “You haven’t opened my gift, yet.”

He picks up the last box under the Christmas tree, a smaller box than all the rest. He jingles it inside and hears the familiar sound of metal clanging to a plastic box. Ripping open the ribbon and wrapping paper quickly, he finds a pair of keys inside.

He frowns. “Are these a spare to your car? I already have a spare - I mean, thank you.”

“Look outside!”

At first, he actually freezes. As in, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen. 

“Thomas,” His mother exclaims, through giggles. “Go!”

In the blink of an eye, he’s jumped up off the carpet and is peering through the window. “No. Freaking. Way.”

Outside, parked in the drive way, is a baby blue CJ-5 Jeep. With his name plastered on a ribbon, wrapped over the front.

He turns to his mom with his jaw on the ground. “Mom, you didn’t do this. You didn’t have to. I was only kidding when I’d said I’d run away if you didn’t buy me a car.”

She shrugged, a cheeky grin spread over her face. “Thomas, you got into _Harvard_ University, on a partial scholarship! And you gave it up to attend a state school, on a full scholarship, so we wouldn’t be burdened by student loans. Of course I had to do this. Us sharing a car, isn’t working. You like to stay up at the dorms some nights which makes it harder for me to know when you’re coming home so I can use my car. I did this not to prove I love you, but _because_ I love you.”

He wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly like he used to, when he got good grades and caught pop up balls in the outfield and she was always there. Even when his father left them for good, without any word, she was always there, with that proud smile on her face and he couldn’t love her any more than he does in this moment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for staying with me so far! hope you're all pleased with the story :) catch up with me on tumblr if ya feel like it (http://wckedlightwood.tumblr.com) or if you want to ask any questions  
> (ps i don't speak spanish at all, so i'm hoping thomas's lil spanish blurb is not TOO far off)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not going to stalk her again. That was a one time deal.”
> 
> Newt laughs and looks at Thomas. “You should have told me that. I would’ve used it for a better purpose.”
> 
> Thomas lets a smile spread across his face before he looks away. “What are you going to do?”
> 
> “I have no bloody idea,” Newt sighs. “It was supposed to be the perfect Valentines Day gift.” {february}

“This is so wrong.”

“Shhhh.”

“They’re going to kill us.”

“If they find out.”

“This is so wrong on so many levels.”

“Thomas, if you don’t be quiet, I’ll stab you with these spiky earrings.”

Thomas rolls his eyes but reluctantly shuts his mouth. Currently hiding behind an earrings counter at Macy’s with Minho, his eyes drift back to the two girls they’re spying on that Saturday afternoon. 

Harriet, the reason why they were there in the first place, picked up a necklace with a golden chain and golden charm.

Thomas squints his eyes. “Can you tell what that is?”

“Hush. I’m trying to focus.”

Harriet shows it to Sonya, before checking the small sticker with the price tag. Sonya shakes her head, causing Harriet to put it down, and they continue down the counter.

“Do you think she liked it?” Minho asks, as they maneuver themselves out of sight from the girls and the store employee, who’d been giving them weird looks all afternoon.

“I can’t tell. I think she was put off by the price.”

“Well, duh. But if he bought for her, do you think she’d like it?”

“I don’t know, why don’t we just ask Harriet, herself?”

Minho thumps Thomas in the back of the head. “You know very well why we can’t just ask her, slinthead.”

“Spying on her feels very wrong.”

“We’re doing this for Newt’s sake,” Minho reminds him before looking at Thomas carefully. “You should like that.”

Thomas frowns before tearing his eyes away from the girls, who have turned their attention to bracelets. “What? Why?”

“Just saying. You hang out with him more than he hangs out with Harriet.”

“Minho, Newt hangs out with everyone more than he hangs out with Harriet. Why are they even together, anyways? You don’t even seem sold that they’re happy.”

“That’s a question you should ask him.”

Thomas sighs, turning his eyes back to the girls, who are coming dangerously close to their hiding spot. “Quick, Minho, move.”

They shift back behind the earring counter and put on their backup hats, to disguise any recognizable traits of their hair.

“Are you going to Minho’s party with Ben? Or does he want to go to Gally’s?” Thomas overhears Harriet asking.

He can barely make out a sigh. “He, of course, wants to go to Gally’s. He’s been trying to persuade me all week to go.”

“What do you think of these?”

“I’m not a fan of gold and turquoise. You are going to Minho’s with Newt, aren’t you?”

“Sure. How about these? Silver, peridot birthstone earrings.”

“Oh, they’re pretty! If they weren’t almost $100.”

“Damn, they’re perfect. Here come around this way, maybe we’ll find more -“

Before Thomas and Minho can comprehend that the girls are moving around the counter to their location, Sonya spots Minho instantly. “Minho? Is that you?”

Harriet frowns. “And Thomas. What are you two doing here?”

The perfect alibi abruptly hits Thomas, without having to out Newt. “We were looking at gifts.”

“For who?” Harriet presses, suspicion etched on her face and laced in her voice.

“Uh, Teresa.”

Sonya’s face lights up in a knowing manner and she nudges Harriet excitedly. “Oh my goodness! Does she know?”

“No.” Thomas says and Minho shakes his head vigorously. “So you can’t tell her.”

“Of course not!” Sonya exclaims, coming over to where he’s standing. “Here, I'll help you find the perfect gift. Birthstone earrings are not your best option. Come this way,”

Thomas reluctantly lets himself be dragged away by a bubbling Sonya and Harriet, silently cursing Newt’s name for being in this situation. He tips his head at Minho, who gets the hint to dive back around the counter and take a picture of the silver birthstone earrings.

* * *

The Monday before Valentines Day, Thomas has trouble finding Newt on the large Glade University campus. He’d already checked his dorm, the library, the cafeteria, the quad, and the art classroom, but Newt was nowhere to be found and his phone had been turned off.

He’s about to check the library again when he runs into Brenda. “Hey, there! How are you?”

“Hey back. I’m good, what are you up to?”

“I’m looking for Newt. Don’t suppose you’ve seen him?”

She shakes her head apologetically. “Sorry. Maybe he’s in class?”

Thomas is just about to shake his own head when he realizes he never thought about that possibility. “Oh. That’s why he’s not answering his phone.”

“Is it an emergency?”

“Not necessarily.”

“So you wouldn’t mind getting lunch with me?” She asks, pointing to the cafeteria they’re standing in front of. “I’m dying for some of that macaroni and cheese.”

He follows her into the cafeteria, maneuvering through the large masses of students. Brenda gets her macaroni and cheese and Thomas picks up a sandwich before they try to find an empty table.

“It’s like a maze,” Thomas says, observing the crowded room.

“And it’s hot as hell.” Brenda comments once they’ve finally found a table. “I swear this school is trying to put us through scorch trials.”

Thomas cracks a smile. “You’re definitely onto something. How was your weekend?”

“Not too shabby. A couple other Pre-Law kids and I visited this law firm downtown.”

“That’s cool.” He says, racking his brain for something else to say. “Do you, um, - oh, have you heard about the party rivalry?”

“Between Gally and Minho? Which one are you going to?”

“Minho’s, definitely.”

“Most of my friends are going to Gally’s.” She tells him.

“Are you?”

“I don’t know, Thomas. Should I?” She asks, looking directly in his eyes and curling a strand of hair on her finger.

At first, the implication goes completely over his head and he’s about to tell her that she should definitely go to Minho’s because anything related to Gally is not worth her time.

But as he opens his mouth, he finally sees what Teresa’s talking about. The look in her eyes is more than a little friendly and her voice is a little lower than usual. And  _then_  he realizes what she wants him to say.

“Oh, oh, yeah, I mean - well, here’s the thing, Brenda.” He stutters, leaning closer to the table and shifting his eyes to his hands. "I, uh, I already told Teresa I’d go with her.”

Brenda raises her eyebrow. “Your best friend? The one with the blue eyes?”

He nods.

Brenda leans closer to the table as well. “Did she ask you or did you ask her?”

“Oh, she offered. I told her I didn’t have a date and she said we should go together.”

“Did you consider that she might have asked you because she’s your friend?” Brenda asks slowly, as if she’s treading water. “Maybe she wouldn’t mind if you went with someone else.”

He feels a smile cross his face. “Maybe.”

“Maybe she wouldn't mind if you went with someone who really wanted to go with you.”

He almost feels hypnotized, like the power of her voice is drawing his hands closer to hers on the table. Her beautiful brown eyes, darker than coffee, are easy to stare at as his eyes trail down her face -

Until his phone buzzes and his eyes break away.

_Newt: Just got your texts. Meet me in the library?_

“I’m so sorry but Newt just texted me,” He says, quickly texting a response. “I have to go. Can I call you tonight?”

Brenda pulls back. “Actually -“

“After I’ve told Teresa that I want to go with you?”

* * *

“So she ended up buying the earrings herself,” Newt repeats after Thomas finds him. They’re sitting outside on a bench instead because Newt’s leg had started acting up.

Thomas nods.

“Do you suppose -“

“I’m not going to stalk her again. That was a one time deal.”

Newt laughs and looks at Thomas. “You should have told me that. I would’ve used it for a better purpose.”

Thomas lets a smile spread across his face before he looks away. “What are you going to do?”

“I have no bloody idea,” Newt sighs. “It was supposed to be the perfect Valentines Day gift.”

“She’ll love whatever you get her.”

“But will she?” Newt asks quickly, shifting his body so that he’s facing Thomas. “I don’t - I don’t really know what she likes.”

Thomas frowns. “You’ve been dating her since the beginning of the school year. What do you mean you don’t know what she likes?”

Newt's quiet for a moment.

“What did you get her for her birthday?”

Newt looks troubled. “Well, that’s the thing. We got together the day  _after_  her birthday.”

“Okay. What did you do for Christmas?”

“Well.” Newt says, looking pensive. “I think I gave her a pendant. An peridot pendant.”

“So what did you do? Did you take her out?”

Newt frowns. “I was in London.”

“But before you left. Did you do anything romantic with her?”

Newt looks at him blankly.

“Newt, do you even like her?”

The hesitation is long enough to tell the truth.

Newt fiddles with his fingers before sighing loudly. “I do like her. I like her as a friend. And I’ve always liked her as a friend.”

Thomas tries to think about how to phrase his next question sensitively. “Can I ask you something?”

“You’ve already asked me eight questions, I don’t see what’s stopping you.” Newt says, a little testier than normal.

Thomas frowns, backtracking over their conversation. “No, I’ve only asked you six.”

“You’ve asked me eight. I counted.”

“I counted, too.”

“No, you didn’t. Not until I told you. You asked me eight questions.”

“Yes I did. I asked you how could you not know what she likes, what you got her for her birthday, what you did for Christmas, did you do anything romantic with her, do you even like her, and can I ask you something. That was only six.”

Newt tries to stifle a smile in the attempt to maintain his annoyed demeanor. “You also asked me what did I  _do_  and if I took her out.”

“I already said that.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did.”

“No, you bloody didn’t. And I counted eight questions. I’m right.”

“You’re literally a two year old. I asked six questions.”

“No, you asked eight.”

“Six.”

“Eight.”

“If I say eight, can we order a pizza to your dorm?” Thomas asks, once he’s finally gotten Newt to smile again.

Newt snorts and stands up, leaning his weight on his good leg. “If you say I’m right, I’ll even charge it on Minho's credit card .”

“Deal.” Thomas says, standing up to follow him. “I’m sorry I ask too many questions.”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind them all when it’s you.”

Still, Thomas swallows the question he’s been dying to ask. “You should talk to Harriet, Newt.”

“I know.”

* * *

The next day during Adv. Calculus, Sonya’s  _very_  late to class.

She’s so late, that a minute after she’s sat down and collected herself at her desk, Professor Janson dismisses the class.

As soon as she arrives, he shoots her a death glare. “Miss. Newton, if you’re going to show up for my class at all, I expect you show up on time. We have an exam in two days!”

Sonya mutters an incoherent apology and flashes a smile to Ben in the front row. Gally rolls his eyes.

Only Minho and Thomas are waiting for her in the back. “Why the hell are you so late? Did Harriet forget we have class today, too?”

Sonya looks immensely troubled. “Oh, shut up, Minho. She and Newt broke up! Two days before Valentines Day!”

Minho's eyes widen in shock. “What?”

“She came back to our dorm last night at two am, telling me about it.”

“Was she upset?” Thomas asks.

“You four in the back!” Professor Janson yells, realizing his unfortunate math mistake too late as the class begins to laugh. “Be quiet, the rest of you. You three. Don’t expect to find this upcoming exam easy. Class is over. Be here at 9am sharp Friday morning.”

While everyone rushes to collect their stuff, Sonya begins the story. “She’s not upset, she says. She said she saw it coming. Meanwhile, I was upset. My brother and my best friend! We could’ve been sisters!”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Like that was ever going to happen.”

“Is Newt upset?” Thomas asks him.

Minho shrugs. “I didn’t even know they broke up. I was knocked out last night and Newt wasn’t awake when I woke up.”

“But it’s two days before Valentines Day!” Sonya cries. “What are they going to do? They can’t go to your party alone.”

“Hey Sonya,” Ben calls from the door, causing the trio to turn to him. “Are you ready?”

Gally and his other friends have already left so he’s left awkwardly standing in front of the classroom. Sonya looks desperately at the two. “We’ll discuss plans of action later.”

“Are you even coming to my party?” Minho asks Sonya before she can escape.

She looks like a deer caught in the headlights, her doe brown eyes wider than the moon. “Well, um, of course I am. It’s just, well, when, you see.”

“What?”

“Ben has to go to Gally’s but he promised he’d come with me to yours.” Sonya explains and adds hastily, “I was always going to go to yours. Without a doubt.”

Minho looks somewhat relieved and Thomas finally realizes how serious Minho had been taking the party rivalry. After he had gained his reputation of legendary party thrower at the Glade (that almost equaled his legend in high school), Gally decided to throw his own Valentines Day party. Minho’s friends all promised to come to his regardless, but many other freshmen and upperclassmen, alike, were curious to see how Gally’s party could compare to Minho’s.

Both were Friday night. Both were alcohol-friendly. Both were dates-only.

Thomas nudges Minho as they all start to make their way out of the classroom. “You do know your party is going to kick ass, right?”

“That’s easy to say now. Until Friday night comes and Gally’s party is kicking my ass.”

* * *

Thomas runs into Harriet before he even finds Newt to ask him about the break-up.

He’s in the library, working on his Principles of Economics thesis, when she comes in and spots him.

“Hey, Thomas.” She says, sitting down across from him. “Did I miss anything in Janson’s class?”

“Nah, you’re lucky you didn’t go. You know about the exam Friday, right? We basically reviewed the topics for it. And by review, I mean he told us what chapters are going to be on the test and how we better not be lazy about studying them in depth.”

Harriet rolls her pretty eyes and opens her textbook. “Who needs Advanced Calculus anyways?”

The question is on the tip of his tongue, but he taps his pencil to his mouth, like a wand silencing him with a spell. “I’m sorry about your break-up, Harriet.”

She gives him a rather sad smile but shrugs. “Some things aren’t meant to be. It was mutual.”

He’s itching to ask her more, more, more so he changes the subject. “Minho’s getting worried about his party. He thinks Gally’s is going to be better than his.”

“I wish Minho would get over this high school reputation he had,” Harriet says, sighing. “It’s just a party."

“You tell that to Minho.”

Harriet snorts. “As if.”

They both crack up until the campus librarian comes over and tells them they have one more chance or else they’re kicked out.

When he finally leaves a couple hours later, he notices a blond boy ahead of him, limping on his right leg.

“Newt!”

Sure enough, Newt turns around and waves. “Hi-ya. Do you have any classes later?”

“Principles of Economics.” Thomas tells him, pointing to his classroom. “Why are you in the business building?”

Newt looks at him sheepishly. “You’re the only mate I have that has a car. And I really wanted a soda.”

Even though the door to his classroom closes, and he’s positive his teacher saw him, Thomas stays where he is. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. It’s just a craving, nothing dire.”

Thomas raises his eyebrow.

Newt sighs loudly. “Don't worry. It was mutual, anyways.”

“I saw Harriet in the library.”

“What did she say?” Newt asks, a bit quicker than he would have liked to admit.

Thomas makes a hasty decision in his head. “Why don’t we go grab a soda?”

* * *

“She wasn't surprised.” Newt explains twenty minutes later, sitting across Thomas at the diner they all liked.

Thomas swirls his straw around in his milkshake. “How did it happen?”

“I was going to talk to her. But then our mum called, telling Sonya the phone bill was bloody insane because she calls Ben all the time and our phone plan isn’t equipped for that. So I had to go to their dorm to tell Sonya to knock it off but she wasn’t there.” Newt says and then pauses. "She asked me if I was happy.”

“So what did you say?”

“That I was. But not in the romantic way. I wasn’t unhappy, but I wasn’t over the moon. And I told her I knew she felt the same way.”

“So then what did she say?”

Newt raises his eyebrow, in the middle of chewing his crisps, as he called them. “Are you bloody bonkers? This isn’t a gossip session between you and Sonya.”

“Oh God, I’ve been spending too much time with Teresa.” Thomas says, mentally slapping himself.

“To answer your question, she asked me if I ever really liked her in the first place.”

“Did you?”

Newt gives him a warning look. “We are not playing twenty questions again.”

“Okay, just one last one, then. I promise this is the last question I will ever ask you.”

Newt snorts and rolls his eyes. “Sure it is. But I’ll humor you.”

“Why were you ever together?”

Newt makes a “hmm” sound and leans back in his booth seat, staring intensely at his Coke. He’s quiet for a while before he asks, “Remember I told you we got together the day after her birthday?”

Thomas searches his memory. “Yes, I think.”

"We all got here a couple days before. And it was all fun, getting reunited and everything. So on her birthday, Minho decided we all needed to go to a party. He found one not too far away, actually, and that’s how we celebrated. But it was in a woodsy area and we were more than a little drunk. Sonya was dancing with some people and Minho was trying to outdrink this girl with blue hair, and Harriet and I were left alone a little too long.”

Newt’s eyes connect with Thomas’s again, and without trouble, he puts two and two together. “You had sex in the woods?”

“Oh God no, that’s tacky. But in her dorm room, we did. I convinced Sonya that she wanted to sleep in my dorm that night and it was easy because she was so tired. And the next morning I felt like an arse. It was the day after her birthday and I couldn’t bloody well not acknowledge what had happened.”

“So you asked her out.”

Newt nods slowly, staring at his Coke again. “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“It just shows you care.” Thomas says, causing Newt to look up. “You cared about her.”

“I do.”

“You’re not an “arse”. You did what you thought was the right thing to do.” Thomas continues, not paying attention to the bells ringing above the door. “You know, Newt, I think you're pretty -“

“Tom?” Teresa’s voice cuts him off and both of their heads turn towards her. She’s standing near the counter, with Frypan who waves at them.

Newt waves back but Thomas’s blood chills.

_After I’ve told Teresa that I want to go with you._

He’s not sure why he remembers now, out of  _all_  moments, to tell Teresa that he wants to take Brenda as his date but he certainly can’t do it now. His nerves begin to mess with him and his voice comes out more scratchier than normal. “Hey, T. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. But Frypan convinced me to take a break from the stupid Principles of Economics paper.” Teresa explains, giving the other boy an appreciative look. “Do you two know each other?”

Thomas forms a quick smile at Frypan. “Yeah.”

The air around them turns into an itchy blanket because Thomas knows he’s supposed to say something inviting and Teresa’s waiting for him too, but all he can think about is how disappointed she’s going to be.

Newt had been looking at Thomas with hints of concern etched in his eyes until he pipes up, “Uh, what are you two up to after this?”

“Have to study for the Intro to Macro test tomorrow.” Frypan tells him, taking a to-go bag from the cashier. “Paige is trying to murder us.”

In his head, Thomas says, Maybe Paige and Janson are working together to make our lives miserable. Out loud, he says, “Yeah.”

Teresa frowns. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I was distracted, I meant I’m sorry to hear. But, uh, same time, tonight?”

Teresa looks at him curiously before nodding. “Let’s grab dinner before.”

“Perfect.”

She waves at the both of them before she follows Frypan out and Thomas can breathe again.

“Are you okay?” Newt asks. “No, don’t answer that. You’re stressed.”

“I have two dates to Minho’s party,” Thomas blurts out. “One is my best friend who I can’t just dump because I may think I like the other girl who sort of asked me.”

Newt raises his eyebrows and leans closer to the table. “Brenda?”

"Brenda."

"There is a way, in fact, to avoid making them both upset.”

“How?”

“Just don’t go.”

The possibility hadn’t ever crossed Thomas’s mind. For a moment, the suggestion was like the sun coming out of the gray clouds that had overwhelmed him until he remembers Minho. “But Minho -“

“Is not going to miss us. He’ll get over it. Girls are an entirely different species altogether. Take it from me, I’ve lived with Sonya and her boy problems for the better part of eighteen years.”

If he’s being honest with himself, Thomas doesn’t want to make either of them unhappy. But he doesn’t want to miss out on a date with Brenda or leave Teresa dateless. And he doesn’t want to spend a night regretting that he took his best friend instead of flirt friend or his flirt friend instead of his best friend.

He looks at Newt hopelessly until he realizes Newt had said us. “I thought you were planning on going.”

“You need an alibi. A reason for not coming. Tell them I’m too hung up on Harriet and if I go and see her, I’ll be gutted and inconsolable.”

“I can’t just lie.”

“Well, it’s not necessarily a lie. If Harriet’s there with another guy, and I’m alone, I will be gutted and inconsolable.” Newt reasons. “And you’re not lying. I’m the one who said it. So therefore, it’s true.”

Thomas snorts. “You shouldn’t not go just because I screwed up.”

Newt shrugs and a small smile forms on his boyish face. “You know me and parties. We’re the best of friends. You’re really paining me by giving me a reason not to go.”

A smile crosses over Thomas’s face as well and he says, “Thank you, Newt.”

“What are friends for?”

* * *

“Back again? You just dropped me off an hour ago.” Teresa says as she opens the door that night. “What’s up?”

He’d rather not have this conversation, standing outside of her front door, but his mouth has other plans. “I can’t go Friday night.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“Newt and Harriet just broke up and they were both planning on going to Minho’s party anyways, just for moral support, but I don't think he's going to go.”

“Okay, that’s understandable. It’s a pretty intimate setting, after all. Why aren’t you coming?” Teresa asks.

He scratches the back of his neck. “He and I are going out somewhere.”

He should tell her that he wanted to take Brenda as his date. When he called her a half an hour ago, she sounded disappointed but told him she understood. Her spirits seemed to rise when Thomas asked her if she was busy the next day.

“Alone?” 

“Well, I mean Minho’s busy.”

“He did ask me to be his date,” Teresa murmurs.

Thomas raises his eyebrow. “What? You never told me this!”

“I was going with you.”

“But I’m your friend, I was a pity date. He’s a  _real_  date.”

Teresa creases her eyebrows and looks at him in surprise. “You were never a pity date.”

He should tell her that he wanted to take Brenda as his date.

But Teresa sighs before he gets the chance. “You’re a good person, Tom. For thinking about his feelings. Come in and watch The Notebook.”

“I’d rather stick my head in the oven, thanks.”

"Good. You can watch it from there."

He should have told her he wanted to take Brenda as his date.

* * *

By the time Newt finally comes out to his car, music is blaring so loud from Hall A that he can’t hear his own thoughts. Minho and Newt live on the top floor, where Thomas sees the door wide open and people trickling in and out. On Gally’s floor, people are crowded outside with red solo cups and red tinted cheeks.

He’s straining his body to see out of the passenger’s side window if Brenda actually came to the party - and with  _who_  - when Newt abruptly opens the door and hops inside.

“I saw Harriet as I was leaving.”

“Was it awkward?” Thomas asks, before he pulls out of the parking lot. “Where am I going?”

“Go straight.” Newt instructs. “And not really. She did raise her eyebrows at me in that “I’ll acknowledge your presence but I’m not going to actually say hi back” kind of manner.”

“Where do I go past the red light?”

“Straight. You take a right in two blocks.”

“Was she with anyone?”

“Should I have asked? She walked there alone but you never know if she was meeting anyone or not.”

Thomas is about to respond before he frowns. “Wait, where am I going?”

“That’s a surprise.” Newt says with a mischievous smirk and and cryptic voice.

“To answer your question, no you should not have asked. It’s good that you don’t know. And why is it a surprise? You’re not even from here.”

Newt chuckles. “What? You don’t like surprises?”

He should tell Newt that his enthusiasm for surprises died when his father told him he was going to the grocery store and would be home before dinner. He should tell Newt that his father is a whopping ten years late for dinner.

Instead he says, as he takes the instructed right at the stop light, “Eh. Not necessarily when I’m driving.”

“Relax, Tommy. I promise you’ll like it. At least, I hope you will. Keep going straight.” Newt’s voice is soft and sounds like waves playing in the background of a tape, as background noise for restless sleepers.

Thomas follows Newt’s instructions, engaging in small talk. He passes through downtown, expecting Newt to tell him to pull in some indie shop parking lot or park along the curb in front of the movie theater. Newt tells him to keep going straight and Thomas is sure that they’re lost.

“Are you sure we’re not lost?”

Newt looks up and smiles. “Nope. We’re here.”

They’re in front of Cranks Palace, an arcade-themed, lounge for 18+, open from 9pm to 4am. Inside, there were dim blue lights and a bright flat-screen TV playing a sports game, depending on the season, instead of a traditional electrical system. Thomas had only been there once, for his high school graduation, and could barely remember all the video games lined along the walls and arcade games in the back room.

Thomas turns to Newt. “How’d you hear about this?”

“It seemed like the perfect place to be a kid for the night.” Newt shrugs. “Are you in?”

How about being a kid again for the next four years, Thomas thinks to himself, and being under the impression girls had cooties?

“Hell yeah, I’m in.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for these ridiculously long chapters. i've been trying to shorten them but i can't bear to take out some of the dialogue and i get these insanely long chapters. i hope you've been enjoying them so far!
> 
> i'm going to try to update sooner rather than later because once school starts next wednesday, updates will be hella slow.
> 
> please leave comments and kudos! you're all fantastic beans


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She shrugs. “We only went for a week. I had a lot more time than you to catch up on my sleep. My parents aren’t nearly as exciting as your friends.”
> 
> He nods his head wearily, feeling the overwhelming power of slumber touch his eyelids.
> 
> “But I - um, I think it’d be cool if you met them.”
> 
> Meet them.
> 
> Thomas’s eyes shoot open.
> 
> or where the gang has just returned from spring break in Miami and everything is not what it seems. {april}

It’s a universally known fact that Monday mornings are hated by everyone in existence. It’s, also, a universally known fact that classes on Monday mornings right after Spring Break are Satan’s creation. 

Thomas’s mother spent the better part of half an hour trying to wake him up that morning. When he wouldn’t wake up to her yelling, prodding, threatening, or blaring loud music, she resorted to her last hope.

“Thomas,” She called, her voice trickling into the depths of his ears, not quite hitting his brain yet. “Thomas, wake up. We’ve got tickets to the Mets pre-season games next week. Against the Yankees!”

_Tickets. Mets._

Thomas’s eyes flutter open, ignoring the crusts cornering his eyes. His voice croaks out, “Mets?”

“Glad to know that wakes you up when Prince can’t. Come on, you’re going to be late picking up Teresa!”

Teresa’s in no better state than he is. Her blue eyes seem duller than normal and her curly black hair has been lazily pulled into a ballerina bun. She’s sporting a enviously sunny tan without the envious sunny attitude.

“I feel like the iceberg the Titanic crashed into.” Teresa said groggily, slurping her styrofoam cup of coffee. “My throat’s dry as hell and I have a pounding headache. Convince me to continue the rest of the day without killing someone.”

It’s not until the car behind him honks obnoxiously that sleep deprived and cloudy eyed Thomas realizes Teresa’s speaking to him or that the light has been green for almost twenty seconds.

_He remembers they were alone in his room._

_He remembers the vodka swirling around in his system and the way his eyes couldn’t focus. He remembers the fingers lacing into his, as if the world was stopping for a minute, just for them. He remembers the gentleness of the moment._

_He remembers the exact moment their lips collide and the moment his mind went blank._

“Tom?” She asks, her voice barely above a gentle whisper, as if she were any louder, she would offend both of their aching heads.

“If you do end up killing someone, could you make that person be Janson?”

* * *

The rest of the gang aren’t faring much better.

Minho’s already snoring by the time Thomas makes it to Adv. Calculus. Sonya is slumped on Harriet’s shoulder, surprisingly not attached to Ben’s hip for once. Harriet has two empty Red Bull’s on her desk and doesn’t seem keen on sharing the third one with her friend.

Thomas mumbles a half-hearted “hey” as he slips into his desk, stifling his 85th yawn that morning.

“I can’t decide if I regret Miami yet.” Harriet speaks, her voice as clear as day. “I’m broke as hell again but it was _so_ worth it.”

Sonya mumbles, “I’m regretting it right now.”

“Maybe getting back in last night at 3 am wasn’t the _best_ idea.” Thomas adds, the frosty air conditioning slightly reviving his brain.

“Maybe leaving 8 am Friday morning of Spring Break and spending two weeks in Miami wasn’t the _best_ idea but it damn sure was a good one.” A crooked grin spirals across Harriet’s face. “It _was_ great! All the swimming, the beach parties, the music festivals, the concerts, the food - oh _God,_ the _food_ \- the boys, the everything! It was magic, you have to admit it.”

Sonya snorts before lifting her head and rubbing her eyes. “You also forget the enormous sum of that trip.”

Thomas wants to cry as she recites the $2,000 they each had to chip in. He elbows Minho sharply in the ribs so the other boy can feel the pain he’s enduring.

Janson comes into the room as Minho snaps his head up. Minho’s eyes accidentally connect with the professor’s and he thumps Thomas in the back of his head.

“What was that for?” Thomas frowns.

“The first sight I want to see when I wake up is  _not_  Janson.” Minho groans, dropping his head back on his desk. “Wake me up when September ends.”

* * *

“You look like hell,” Brenda says when she meets him in the library. “Rough trip?”

He snorts and smirks drily. “Always the charmer. Miami was brutally amazing. You should’ve came. How was New York?”

“It was wonderful, thanks for asking. I’m kind of regretting I didn’t. The cost of the trip was a little daunting, I admit.”

“A little?” His eyes widen. “I’m still recovering.”

“It seemed like it was worth it from your phone calls. And the pictures. The one of you and Teresa at the music festival where she’s on top of your shoulders is adorable.”

Thomas has the decency to blush as he fails to recall the memory. “I’m glad she came. We got to spend a lot of time together, it was like being kids again.”

Brenda raises her eyebrow and smirks herself. “Now, I’m really regretting I didn’t come.”

_He remembers the gentle hands curling on his shoulders, fireworks crackling somewhere downstairs by the raging pool party._

_He remembers the slow movements onto the bed. The insatiable trails of kisses left down his neck and the warm fingers on his spine. His own hands moved up and down, the skin contact never satisfying his desires._

_He remembers them laughing, as if this was the most absurd reality they could wrap their minds about but the only reality they could live in for that moment._

_He remembers opening his eyes and seeing -_

“Thomas?” Brenda asks, tapping his head lightly. “ Are you there?”

He blinks, coming back to the reality where Brenda is in front of him and he’s trying to study for his Principles of Economics exam. “I’m just ridiculously tired. You look rejuvenated.”

She shrugs. “We only went for a week. I had a lot more time than you to catch up on my sleep. My parents aren’t nearly as exciting as your friends.”

He nods his head wearily, feeling the overwhelming power of slumber touch his eyelids.

“But I - um, I think it’d be cool if you met them.”

_Meet them._

Thomas’s eyes shoot open.

* * *

“Meet them?” Teresa exclaims when he finds her later that day. “Brenda wants _you_ to meet _her parents_?”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“Please tell me you said no.”

“No?”

“Tom, meeting the parents is _girlfriend_ territory.” Teresa says, slapping his shoulder. “You’re like, at _best_ , her flirt friend, correct?”

He shrugs. “I’ve met your parents.”

Teresa blushes furiously and slows her pace. “Wh- what are you trying to say?”

He shrugs again as if his system is starting to crash again from a total of eight hours of sleep the past two weeks. “You’re my friend. Brenda’s my friend.”

“Yeah well she’s been a little more than your friend lately, hasn’t she?” Teresa challenges, coming to a full stop. 

He stops with her and looks at her curiously. “You sound mad.”

She opens her mouth to say something but shakes her head in the end and says defeatedly, “I think I’m tired. Miami really wiped me out.”

They resume walking and he starts to say, “Miami really wiped out my bank account. I can’t even afford -“

“Tom, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What do you see in Brenda?”

This time, he stops walking. “Hm. I - I think that she’s beautiful. In her own special way, you know? She’s not like every other girl, with her short, cropped hair and her dark eyes and her wild sense of humor. I think she’s different and smart and compelling. I just - she’s not like everyone else.”

A wistful look shadows over her face as her eyebrows crease together. “Am I?”

He’s just about to look at her like she’s out of her mind and tell her she’s one a million before Newt finds them.

“Tommy and Teresa, my two favorite people at the moment.” He grins. “Minho’s currently nursing his hangover with a junior he met in the cafeteria, if you wanted to know.”

Teresa makes a face. “Lovely.”

“What are you up to?” Thomas asks.

Newt smirks, his lips curled together in a mischievous demeanor. “I’ve got intel that my sister may or may not be going to the cinema with that boy she fancies. I think we’re all mature enough to realize what happens when two partners go on a date to the cinema.”

Teresa’s jaw drops in actual shock while Thomas chuckles, pressing his fingers to his nose.

“I just think our parents would enjoy a photo of said boy who shoves his tongue down my sister’s throat all during spring break.”

“Oh my God,” Teresa groans.

“You are the definition of a child.” Thomas laughs. 

“Ah, but what’s the fun in growing up anyways? Are you two knackered enough to join me?”

“Knackered?” Teresa repeats.

Newt nods until he realizes they’re both staring at him blankly. “You don’t use ‘knackered’ here? I should’ve realized that when I told Harriet I was knackered enough to do something crazy. That’s when she told me Sonya was going to the cinema.”

“We also don’t say cinema,” Teresa points out.

Newt frowns. “Then what the bloody hell do you say?”

“Normal things,” Thomas tells him supportively. “Like I’m going to the movies. Or I’m extremely delirious so I’ll go do something crazy now.”

“Ha-ha. Are you?”

“Extremely delirious enough to go do something crazy as stalk your sister?”

Newt nods.

“I already told you that was a one time deal.”

“No, you told me stalking _Harriet_ was a one time deal. I’m asking you to stalk Sonya, with me this time.”

An amused grin curls on Thomas’s lips and he can’t hold back a smile anymore. “Have I ever told you you’re the epitome of Peter Pan?”

“Only every other bloody day.”

Thomas turns to Teresa, who’s been watching the two boys carefully with a raised eyebrow. “Are you in?”

She looks surprised. “You’re actually going?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“I, uh - I think I have to opt out of this one. Come find me when you’re ready to head back home.” She says, before walking back in the direction she came from.

Newt watches her walk off and turns to Thomas. “Do you ever get the feeling she doesn’t like me very much?”

“Why do you say that?” He asks as they start heading in the direction of the nearest movie theater.

“I always seem to be interrupting something between you two.”

Thomas’s mind involuntarily flashes back to the last night in Miami in the hotel room before snapping himself out of it. “I had just told her that Brenda wants me to meet her parents.”

Newt widens his eyes. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“So it’s serious?”

“Well, no.”

“But she wants you to meet the parents. That’s _always_ serious territory.”

“They are successful lawyers,” Thomas points out.

“Yeah but you want to work in the World Bank some day.” Newt counters as they cross the street.

Thomas frowns, surprised Newt remembered that conversation. “I told you that, like, seven months ago.”

“Have your plans changed?”

“No.”

“So her parents being lawyers has no real significance to you.” Newt concludes. “Tell me, is this thing with Brenda _more_ than just a thing to you?”

This time, Thomas seriously has no idea what to say.

“You only started ‘seeing’ her a month ago.” Newt reminds him. “Girls are very sensitive on this subject, Tommy. Take it from me - I have a sister.”

“Who we’re going inside a movie theater to stalk.” Thomas says drily as he stares at the entrance to the theater.

Newt pulls open the door, hinting for Thomas to go through first. “You should be sure you know what you really want.”

“Do you?” Thomas asks as soon as Newt closes his mouth.

Newt hesitates. “What?”

“Do you know what you really want?”

“I just spent two thousand dollars on a spring break trip to Miami with you, Minho, Sonya, Harriet, Teresa, and that Ben creature. Do you _think_ I know what I really want?”

Thomas does laugh it off, but he’s not surprised to find himself just a little disappointed.

* * *

“Ah, you’re finally home!” His mother greets from the couch as he steps through the door that night. “Come watch The Bachelor with me and tell me all about your trip.”

Thomas makes a face as he slumps through the living room. “Yeah, I’d rather not.”

Claire rolls her eyes as she shuts off the television. “Come sit. How was Miami? I haven’t had a chance to talk to you all day.”

“The hotel was nice.”

“How were the rooms?”

_He remembers the moment they were both shirtless as the moment time started to slow down and hit them._

_He remembers that they didn’t stop, but their movements were less acts of drunkenness and more acts of passion. The vodka still dictated his lips as they captured the other’s in slow, languid kisses and his hands clasped with the other’s fingers._

_He remembers his hand trailing down the other’s back, drawing steady circles as if to dull both of their nerves. As if this moment wouldn’t change the course of their friendship for the rest of their lives._

Thomas blinks and feels his face turn red, as he’s still standing in front of his mother. “Tiny. They wanted to switch up room partners since everyone but Teresa and I live in the dorms.”

“How many to a room?”

Thomas can tell he’s beyond sleep deprived as he slumps further on the couch and answers all of her questions wearily. “Ben ended up coming with us, after all. That threw everything off. I stayed with Newt and Minho, Sonya and Ben bunked together, and Teresa and Harriet stayed together.”

“Sonya and Ben are the siblings, right?”

“No that’s Newt and Sonya. Newt’s the half-brother, remember?”

“What?”

“His father had an affair with the mistress so Newt was born. Three months after Sonya. They pretended they were twins.” Thomas’s eyes are shutting and so is his mouth. 

“That’s awful,” His mother sighs sadly, draping a blanket over him.

“He never had a real birthday.” Thomas mumbles as his mind is slipping into dream land. “Not a real birthday.”

A melancholy smile turns over Claire’s face as she presses her lips to his face. “Goodnight, Thomas. I love you.”

“Dad used to, too.”

He’s fast asleep before he can see his mother’s eyes widen and her thin hand tighten around his shoulder.

* * *

It’s not until the following Saturday before Thomas has finally caught up on all his sleep and has given the situation some more thought.

“Hey, check this out.” Minho grins, giving Thomas his phone while they wait for Sonya and Harriet to arrive at the diner. “It’s from Tequila Tuesday, remember?”

Thomas does not remember Tequila Tuesday but his stomach does. It lurches as his eyes glaze over the picture of him sprawled out over the couch, completely hammered, and Teresa putting shaving cream over his face with a wicked grin.

Thomas groans as Newt bursts out laughing next to him in their booth. “That’s even better than that carnival we went to where Sonya tried to hit on Thomas again.”

Thomas groans even louder.

“I thought Ben was going to kill him!” Minho joins in on the laughter, making the two sound like the murdering hyenas from _The Lion King_ instead of two, testosterone driven, teenage boys. 

Thomas rolls his eyes as he takes out his own phone and swipes through his set of embarrassing pictures and shoves it at Minho. “Remember when you thought it would be a great idea to jump on the stage at the music festival we went to and nearly had us arrested?”

“I think it’s safe to say that spring break was a complete success. It’s time now to begin phase two.” Minho smirks.

“Dear God.”

“It’s time now to discuss if Thomas should or should not meet Brenda’s parents.” Newt decides as he picks up his menu. 

“I don’t think he should.” Minho declares.

Thomas raises his eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“I should be the one meeting her parents.” Minho says, earning groans out of the other two. “I saw her first.”

“You’re talking about her as if she’s some brand new Mercedes you saw at the dealership.” Thomas says. “She’s a girl, who I happen to like.”

“As opposed to a…. boy?”

“You’re _insanely_ insufferable.”

“Why?” Harriet asks as she and Sonya finally arrive, sliding into the booth next to Minho.

“We’re discussing the meeting the parents situation.” Newt fills her in. “And Minho’s still jealous she chose Thomas.”

“Oh. You could double date with me and Ben!” Sonya chirps.

“That sounds vile.” Newt tells her.

“Bugger off. I still haven’t forgiven you for spying on me Monday. I’ve only forgiven Thomas, because he’s a poor bloke corrupted by your wickedness.” Sonya informs him, her accent stronger as it always was when the two engaged in serious or playful banter.

Minho had been thumbing through pictures on his phone during the conversation until he showed one to Sonya. “You’ve forgiven him because you have a secret crush on him.”

A crimson-faced Sonya reached over Harriet, who ducked in time, to whack Minho on the back of his head. “We don’t speak of the nude beach!”

Minho cuts her a smirk.

“So back to Brenda,” Harriet says.

“She’s in the honors program with Ben.” Sonya mentions.

“Ben’s in the honors program?” Newt asks, voicing the disbelief of everyone else.

“Didn’t I ever tell you he was bloody brilliant?”

“I probably didn’t believe you. I also still probably don’t believe you.”

“This is why you can’t keep a girlfriend.”

Thomas, himself, feels mortified for Newt and Minho actually tears his eyes away from his phone. The two both claimed there was no awkwardness between them, as they wished to return back to the friends they used to be, but Thomas could feel the itchiness of the air around them.

Harriet rolls her eyes. “That was unnecessary and you know it. Besides, when’s Teresa coming back?”

“Coming back?” Thomas frowns. “She didn’t end up coming. She was feeling tired and wanted to stay in.”

“Ah. I thought she was in the bathroom.”

Sonya sighs loudly. “That blows. Now it’s disproportionate again and you’re all gonna wanna go to some ‘manly’ place after this.”

“Who said I’m hanging out with you after this?” Minho asks.

“Who said you had a choice?” Sonya smiles sweetly.

“As if.”

“So I _should_ meet Brenda’s parents,” Thomas says slowly, posing it more as a question than a statement.

Sonya looks pensive for a moment. “Did you ask Teresa if you should?”

“If I should? I told her, but I didn’t really ask for her permission. She seemed against it, though.”

Sonya and Harriet exchange a look and Sonya shrugs. “I think you should do what feels right for _you_ , Thomas, _but_ if you asked me, you have only been seeing her for a month.”

Instead of picking up any hints, Thomas just feels even more confused than he felt when the six of them snuck into a bar in Miami and Thomas could have sworn he’d seen his grandma. 

“You should really think about it. Like, maybe take fifteen years to think about it.” Harriet adds.

“I think you should just do it.” Minho cuts in, his mood serious for once. 

“What?” Thomas, Sonya, and Harriet asking in unison and disbelief.

“It can’t hurt, right? I mean, it’s not like he’s signing away his life or something. It’s most likely going to be a dinner between Thomas, Brenda, and her parents. Worst comes to worst, Thomas gets a little action. What’s so wrong with that?”

Minho isn’t staring at Thomas as he says this. He’s staring at the figure next to Thomas, who’s been silent for a little while and staring at the menu.

Sonya looks at her brother desperately. “Newt, what do you think?”

Newt looks up and then at Thomas. “You know what I think.”

_Do you think I know what I really want?_

“I’ll do it.” Thomas abruptly decides.

Harriet raises her eyebrows as her lips curl into a smirk. “Guess fifteen years seemed too long, eh?” 

“I’ve been waiting fifteen years for a damn waiter to come over to this table.” Minho complains. “Let’s bounce.”

“If Teresa were here, we’d get service faster. I think the waiter fancies her.” Sonya said, a little louder than she most likely should have.

If Teresa were here, he’d be having flashbacks of that night over and over and over again.

“Are you sure - 

* * *

_“Are you sure you want another one?” Teresa asks him as he’s downing his third shot of pure vodka. “You’re almost wasted already.”_

_“Pre-gaming is a sport I take seriously.” He tells her with a slight giggle. “Everyone else is going to be plastered anyways, T. It’s our last night, let’s enjoy it.”_

_She giggles as he counts to three and they tip their heads back for more. “I don’t want to be the one cleaning up after you. It was already charming enough to have to drag an unconscious Minho out of a bar we’re not even supposed to be in the first place because he nearly drank himself to death.”_

_“You loved it.”_

_They’re on the tiny couch in the room Thomas shares with Minho and Newt, but Thomas isn’t quite aware that their shoulders are touching. His head is becoming a little fuzzier as he grins to himself._

_“You also loved it when he tried to serenade you at the nude beach -“_

_“We don’t speak of the nude beach.” Teresa says, without any real fire behind her voice. Thomas could’ve sworn she was laughing, her cheeks rosy pink and her eyes crystal blue._

_“I think he likes you, T.” Thomas tries to say seriously, but the vodka keeps pouring out of him in laughter._

_“Sure he does.”_

_“Why wouldn’t he? You’re everything a guy like him could ever want.”_

_Teresa frowns as she takes another shot herself. “God, Tom, is that supposed to be a compliment?”_

_“I mean it. You’re smart, you’re funny. You’re also very beautiful.”_

_Teresa looks at him in complete shock. “Wh - what?”_

_“What?”_

_“What did you say?”_

_“I said what?”_

_She smacks him on the arm. “No, you idiot. What did you say before that?”_

_“I said you’re beautiful.”_

_He doesn’t notice her body moving to face him. He doesn’t notice the glazed over look that shadows her eyes. He does notice that she’s smiling._

_“You have a pretty smile, T. I think Minho really likes it.”_

_“Well, he’s not the one I want to like it.”_

_Thomas raises his eyebrow and moves his own body so that he’s facing her now too. “You have a crush on somebody, don’t you!”_

_“I think so."_

_“Thomas, are you in here?” Newt suddenly bursts through the door. “Oh, there you are, Teresa! We’ve been looking for you two._

_Teresa looks like a deer caught in the headlights while Thomas can’t do anything but laugh at Newt’s choice of attire: his swim trunks and Minho’s expensive Italian blazer._

_“What are you wearing?” Thomas asks, moving his body so that he’s facing Newt now._

_“We’re all out by the pool, waiting for you two. Are you already drunk?” He asks, eyeing the half empty bottle of vodka._

_“No,” Thomas says at the same time Teresa responds, “Yes.”_

_“You should come out. It’ll be fun.” Newt coaxes the two of them. His cheeks are a little too red and his voice is a little giddy. Newt nearly always looks like a rosy cheeked child but when he's drunk, he ironically turns into a Lost Boy._

_“Are you coming?” Teresa asks, her voice lower than usual._

_“Yeah, in a little. I’ll meet you down there.”_

_Teresa nods at him before skirting past Newt out the door._

_Thomas makes no motion to get off of the couch._

_Newt frowns. “Aren't you going to get up?”_

_Thomas’s eyes are having trouble focusing in on anything. He can’t help but find the situation entirely hilarious. “I can’t.”_

_“Why not?” Newt asks, coming closer._

_Thomas sees Newt coming closer to the couch, even sees him sit on the couch, but his head is another universe where he’s the president of the World Bank and drives a red Ferrari. “I feel like I’m not here. Like not, mentally here.”_

_“Are you saying you’re bonkers?”_

_They both begin to laugh as Newt picks up the bottle of vodka and tries to take a chug of it. He has to restrain himself from spitting it out. “God, I hate the taste of it. It burns your throat.”_

_Thomas takes it from him and soon they’re passing the bottle back and forth between each other to see who can endure the longest “shot”._

_By the time they’ve finished the bottle, they’ve reached record levels of intoxication._

_“Tommy?”_

_“I can’t really focus.” Thomas says using the same accent as the boy beside him, lulling his head around._

_Newt nods as if he understands. “Your accent sucks.”_

_“Your American accent isn’t perfect either.”_

_“Sure it is. I’m perfect.” Newt attempts the entire sentence in a failed American accent, causing the both of them to burst out laughing._

_Once they’ve managed to calm down, Newt says to Thomas. “Can you focus now?”_

_“Eh. Not enough to get up.”_

_“How about now?” He asks, as Thomas feels fingers lace through his own. The fingers are warmer than his, as if fire radiates through the bones. The skin is soft, like his mother’s favorite Persian rug._

_His heart’s beating faster but he still says, “Yeah.”_

_Newt turns his body so that he’s facing Thomas and their eyes are trained on each other. “How about .. now?”_

_None of this is really helping Thomas focus at all because his mind is racing with too many emotions and too much vodka but he still says, “Yeah.”_

_Although he can recognize Newt’s voice getting lower and Newt’s face coming closer as he whispers one last, “How about now?”_

_And even after Newt’s thin, slightly-chapped lips find his in a beautifully, surprising maze of passion, gentleness, and wonder, all he can think is, “Yeah.”_

* * *

“- you want to do this?” Newt whispers to him, ignoring Sonya and Minho arguing in front of them, Harriet playing the mediator.

_How about now?_

Thomas looks into the other boy’s eyes and inwardly sighs. “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah! i meant to update this on time but two of weeks have already senior year kicked my ass. i also lost a bit of motivation to continue this, but i think i've found it again and i'm pretty excited for the next chapterr. also - if you're a little thrown off by the constant time jumping, i am doing it on purpose as i want to cover a decent amount of their college experience. only two more chapters left in freshmen year! (i'm also doing it because i kinda want to do a prompt series after this, for little one shots that couldn't make it into the series, aka "we don't speak of the nude beach!" hehe)  
> anywaays i really hope you liked the chapter! even though it ended perhaps with some tensions between our dear Newt and Thomas that won't really be resolved until future chapters, i seriously appreciate you guys taking the time to read my story :)  
> hit me up at wckedlightwood.tumblr.com if you're curious about anything!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nah, Newt would like something more,” Thomas voice trails off as he tries to think. 
> 
> “Fun?” Sonya tries to supply.
> 
> “Exciting?” Harriet guesses.
> 
> “Spontaneous,” Thomas decides. “Something he wouldn’t see coming. A surprise party.” {may}

May is a beautiful month full of flowers, pollen, sunshine, and fresh air. The cement paths and gardens are devoid of snow and the campus quad is lit with exhausted college students again. May brings enthusiasm among the Gladers, who only have one more month of term papers, meaningless homework, and essays left until freedom.

To Thomas, May only means ten more classes of Advanced Calculus with Janson.

He’s staring blankly at the SmartBoard in front of the classroom, where Minho and Harriet are writing out the answers to the homework he forgot to do.

Sonya turns around, her eyes darting immediately to his paper. “Did you get what he got for number 14? I think he forgot to divide - Oh.”

Thomas shrugs sheepishly. “I may or may not have forgotten to do it.”

Sonya raises her eyebrows. “What kept you so busy last night then?”

“Your brother. We didn’t have any classes so he insisted we go to Crank Palace. I didn’t feel like making the drive back out here after so we went to my house. His attention span is the attention span of a two year old and at first, I was being productive about my assignments until he decided I was going to teach him to drive an American car.”

Sonya’s eyes widen. “And you’re _alive_? Newt can barely drive our family car in London without killing someone.”

“He did run into my mom’s rose garden.”

“Oh, dear God. Please send your mum my _sincerest_ apologies.”

“Eh, she wasn’t too torn up over it. She’s practically obsessed with him.”

Sonya snickers, as if she’s about to make a teasing remark at Thomas, until she furrows her eyebrows. “What’s today?”

“Thursday.”

“I know _that_. What’s the date?”

Thomas checks his phone, where a message from Brenda is waiting for him. “It’s the 7th.”

_Brenda: Ugh. Have to cancel tonight :( my mother insists I keep my annoying cousins busy. Dinner tomorrow?_

“His birthday is next week!” Sonya exclaims, her face lighting up, much to the confusion of Thomas.

“Whose birthday is next week?” Harriet asks as she and Minho return from the front of the classroom.

“Newt’s!” Sonya continues. “It’s his _real_ birthday next Saturday.”

“Oh, let’s go back to that bar we went to for Minho’s birthday. It was fantastic!”

Minho’s barely paying any of them attention, staring intently at the board. “Did I mess up number 14? I asked Janson for help on it yesterday, but he told me it looked fine.”

“Nah, Newt would like something more,” Thomas voice trails off as he tries to think. 

“Fun?” Sonya tries to supply.

“Exciting?” Harriet guesses.

“Spontaneous,” Thomas decides. “Something he wouldn’t see coming. A surprise party.”

Sonya’s mouth forms an “o” shape. “That would be perfect!”

“What’s perfect?” Minho asks, finally coming to peace with his answers.

“A surprise party for Newt.” Harriet informs him. “His birthday’s next Saturday.”

“I like it. Nice idea, blondie.” 

“It was Thomas’s idea.” Sonya says, looking over towards Ben. “Maybe he’ll throw me a surprise party for my next birthday. Turning 20 is a huge deal, you know.”

“God, you’re old.” Minho tells her and Sonya throws her pencil at him, causing Harriet to laugh. 

“Minho.” Janson calls, causing the four to freeze. “Number 14 is wrong. Come and fix it.”

Gally and his buddies snicker, while Minho looks Thomas dead in the eye and says, “If he goes missing before the end of this semester, look the other way.”

* * *

“A surprise party?” Teresa repeats. “That’s going to be a lot of planning. And his birthday’s next week?”

The following Saturday, Thomas and Teresa find themselves at the local comic book store, where they’re waiting for Gigi and Jacob to decide what album “best symbolizes their relationship”. 

Thomas wants to vomit.

“It’s just going to be in their dorm,” Thomas explains. “Sonya and I have been working out the details. I’ll keep him distracted throughout the day while they set up. Sonya says you can spend the night with her.”

Teresa shrugs. “I don’t know if I can come.”

“What? You have to.”

“Is Brenda coming?”

“I haven’t had a chance to ask her yet. Her cousins are in town.”

“Hm.” Teresa murmurs, before inhaling a deep breath. “Sure. You should invite Alby.”

“Alby? Isn’t that Brenda’s friend?”

“Mhm. He’s cute, isn’t he?” She asks, studying him carefully.

Alby was shorter than him, with sterner features but a happier smile. If Thomas had to classify anyone as _cute_ , it wouldn’t necessarily be Alby.

It would be Sonya, with her doe brown eyes and a giddy demeanor. Sonya, who still believed in love and in the best of everyone, despite having seen the worst. 

Maybe even her brother, with his Peter Pan etched features and his unquenchable desire to stay young forever.

Thomas quickly scratches the back of his neck, a physical punishment to stop thinking of Spring Break. “Is that who you’re crushing on?”

Teresa looks at him tiredly and flat out says, “You’re so dense sometimes, Tom.”

“How?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Not until you answer mine.”

“There’s this guy,” Teresa continues, ignoring him, “who I think I really, really like. But he likes someone else. It’s been almost eight months. Should I just give up?”

Thomas opens his mouth to contemplate her question, at the precise moment Gigi and Jacob return to them with Jonas Brothers CDs. He looks at Teresa in utter disbelief and she shrugs in return.

“Ready to head to the mall?” Gigi asks.

Thomas is just about to complain that they wasted an entire hour at the comic book shop when his eyes drift over to the _perfect_ present for Newt.

* * *

“Hey, stranger.” He says to Brenda, when he meets her the following Monday at the movie theater.

She looks exhausted, dark purple bags lining her eyes and her short pieces of her hair flying up. “I hate seven year olds.”

“I’m sure this will make your day,” Thomas says with a chuckle. “We’re throwing a surprise party for Newt this Saturday for his birthday. You wanna come?”

Brenda raises her eyebrows. “Your friends are lovely, Thomas, but you’re the only one I really know. I’d be standing in the corner by myself, like at Minho’s halloween party.”

“Good things came out of that,” He says a little flirtatiously, to make her smile. “Besides, Teresa asked if I’d invite Alby and he seemed cool with it.”

“Teresa’s coming?”

“Of course she is.”

“Okay, I’m in. I don’t ever get to talk to her. She’s never there with you guys.”

Thomas sighs. “She likes hanging out with our old friends from Wicked High.”

“And you don’t?”

He shrugs as they come up to the concessions counter. “Not exactly. Do you like your popcorn with extra butter?”

“Not a huge fan of popcorn.”

Thomas looks at her in utter shock. “What? How could you not like popcorn?”

* * *

Three days later, Thomas, Sonya, Harriet, and Minho are all huddled in the girls’ dorm, mapping out the final plan for Saturday.

“I’ve texted Teresa and she’s going to stay with us Friday and Saturday. That way in the morning, we can immediately start decorating and buying food.” Sonya explains, tapping her pen to her notepad. “Thomas, you’re on distraction duty.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to distract Newt all day. Keep him away from here while we set up.”

“Is there any particular reason we have Thomas on distraction duty?” Minho asks, chucking Sonya’s crumpled up pieces of paper against the wall.

“He’s the only mate with a car.”

“Fair enough. I’m bringing Maria.”

“Who’s Maria?” Harriet frowns.

“She’s the new girl I’m seeing, remember?”

“The one with the green eyes.” Thomas guesses confidently.

“No, that was Emily. Maria’s from Columbia.” 

“Ohhhh.” Thomas and Harriet say in unison, drawing the word out.

“Okay, that brings the list up to 12 people. Can we fit that many people in your dorm?” Sonya asks.

“Some people can stay out on the catwalk, if they must.”

“But that’s not intimate.”

“Newt’s not a fan of intimate.” Harriet reminds her.

“Right, right. Okay, any more questions before we break for the night?”

“Yeah,” Thomas starts to say. “What time should I bring him -“

Just then, someone knocks loudly on the door and Newt’s voice is heard from outside. Thomas ducks under the bed and Minho dives for the closet as Sonya and Harriet try to remove any trace of surprise party planning from their room.

* * *

“Happy birthday, Newt!” 

Newt blinks in surprise and rubs his eyes groggily, staring at the strange image of Thomas standing outside his dorm at noon, with a chocolate cupcake in his hands.

The corners of his lips curl up into a grin and he accepts the cupcake and a hug from Thomas. “Aw, thanks Tommy. You didn’t have to do this.”

“You deserve a really good day.” He says, scratching the beck of his neck and shyly smiling. “And the really good day starts now. Get ready, you're coming with me.”

Newt starts to stutter and frown, still groggy from just waking up, as Thomas pushes him back into his room. Once Newt is dressed and somewhat more coherent, he waves goodbye to his room mate, whose eyes are shut.

“I swear that shank is always sleeping,” Newt murmurs. “He should come with us.”

“He’ll join the fun later, I promise.” Thomas says, his hand on the small of Newt’s back guiding him out the door. He might miss the color that rushes to Newt’s cheeks but he doesn’t miss the quick wink Minho shoots him before he closes the door.

* * *

Thomas has managed to distract Newt at Crank Palace, a diner, and the local comic book store before he realizes he forgot the most important part of the day at his house.

“Are we going back to the University after this?” Newt asks him at 5:13 pm. “Sonya’s been bugging me all day about when we’re going to be back.”

_Sonya [_ **_3:57 pm_ ** _]:_ ****_The cake guy we hired screwed up. He wrote “Happy Birthday Nude! You’re an awesome shake.” Keep him distracted just a little bit longer, please! xx_

_Thomas [_ **_4:19 pm_ ** _]: Lovely. Exactly how much longer?_

_Sonya [_ **_5:10 pm_ ** _]: Another couple hours, love!! Let’s just say the “decorations” Minho bought were sex toys and Harriet and Teresa are having trouble with the keg._

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep the charade up without Newt getting suspicious, especially with the others “pestering” Newt about when he was coming back.

“Yes,” Thomas says, trying to think of an excuse. “I think.”

“You think?”

“Kind of.”

“Okay, Tommy.”

By the time they make it to Thomas’s house - who made sure to go the _long_ way - Newt’s getting a bit restless. He’d started to become jumpy, a telltale sign his leg was acting up.

Thomas checks the time, _5:39 pm._ “It shouldn’t take us longer than a couple hours.”

“What?”

“I mean, a couple minutes!” Thomas bites his tongue vehemently as he opens the front door. “Er, slip of tongue.”

“Thomas, is that you?” His mother calls when they’re inside. “I thought Newt’s surp-“

“Present!” Thomas shouts, causing Newt to jump beside him. “Newt’s _present_.”

His mother pops her head through the kitchen door, her eyebrows furred in confusion until her eyes land on the blond. “Oh, Newt! Happy birthday!” 

Newt’s smile covers his entire face as she leans in for a hug. “Thanks, Claire. Sorry to barge in.”

“You’re _always_ welcome. Sadly, I assume you’re not staying long?”

Newt looks to Thomas, who freezes and blurts out a, “Maybe.”

Claire makes a “hm” sound before turning back to the kitchen. “I’ll be down here if you two need anything. Happy birthday again, Newt!”

“Your mum’s a treasure,” Newt tells him as they trek up the stairs to Thomas’s bedroom, Thomas’s cheeks turning red. “She looked a bit sad today, though. Did you see that?”

“Don’t tell me you have a crush on her.”

Newt snorts as he takes in the beige walls with framed pictures of the Mets throughout the seasons. “Ha. I don’t think your dad would fancy that.”

“Nah. He left almost eleven years ago. He said he’d come back before dinner, but he’s a little late, I guess.” Thomas says without thinking, conveniently not facing Newt as he digs around under his bed for the gift.

When Thomas finally does make eye contact with him, Newt’s sporting the mournful puppy dog eyes that Thomas had grown to detest from his teachers and family members. The “I’m so sorry for your loss” look that filled him with shame, disappointment, and hopelessness. 

_What kind of son am I if my father couldn’t wait until I was 18 to get rid of me?_

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that -“

“Why not?” Newt asks, genuine curiosity filling his voice. “I told you about my father. You were understanding and caring about it.”

“It’s easier not to talk about it.” Thomas says quickly, scratching behind his neck. “And I don’t want to ruin your special day. You deserve a really good day.”

“Tommy -“

“Here.” Thomas shoves the wrapped box into Newt’s hands. “I immediately thought of you when I saw it.”

Newt unwraps the gift slowly due to his eyes averting from the box in the hands to try and meet Thomas’s eyes. He finally pulls out an antique-looking stopwatch, rusted copper with a matching chain to put around his neck. In the actual clock, shaped conveniently like Big Ben, is a sketch of four shadow children preparing to fly off towards the second star to the right.

Newt’s almost gasps. “You seriously think I’m Peter Pan.”

Thomas chuckles, praying Newt’s mind has left all traces of their former conversation behind. “I thought it was a nice little homage to London.”

“Bloody brilliant! Where on Earth did you find this?”

“I was out with Teresa and her friends at that comic store when I saw it. It seemed perfect. You’re always late to class, anyways.”

Newt laughed and slipped the chain onto his neck, admiring the stopwatch. “It’s fantastic, that’s what it is. You were out with Teresa, you said?”

“Mhm. You’d never guess what she told me.”

“She’s going to join the Spice Girls on their reunion tour.”

“Not exactly.”

“I give up.”

“She has a crush on me.”

Newt tears his eyes away from the watch, in complete shock. “You’re joking.”

“Not exactly.” Thomas sighs as he plops down on his bed.

“What the bloody hell does that mean?”

“She kind of implied it. She told me she’s had a crush on this guy for like the past eight months but he likes someone else.”

Newt sits beside him. “What did you say?”

“I was going to tell her she should give up because that guy clearly doesn’t see what he’s missing out on.”

“But why would you say that knowing it was you she was talking about,” Newt frowns, his voice trailing off until Thomas practically sees a light turn on his head. “Unless you knew all along.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“So you’ve known all this time Teresa’s fancied you but you’ve never…. done anything about it?” Newt asks in total confusion.

Thomas stands up. “This really isn’t the day to have this conversation. It’s _your_ birthday and it should be about you -“

“It’s always about me with you.” Newt cuts him off, standing up too. “Hell, I didn’t even know about your father when I told you all about mine in December. I don’t know what freaks you out at night, I don’t know who your first girlfriend was, I don’t know why you haven’t done anything about Teresa. That’s what I want. For my real birthday this year. I want to know _you_.”

Thomas almost complains that he’s about to throw him a fucking surprise party that’s a  lot better than twenty questions. Almost.

“Teresa and my mother have been the only stable people in my life.” He says quietly, sitting back down. “There’s only so much of a relationship I can have with my mom, but Teresa - she’s not just my best friend, she’s like a sister. I can tell her anything and know that she’ll never leave. That kind of friendship doesn’t come around all the time. We can fight with each other and it won’t be the demise of our relationship because we know each other so well that nothing ever really _hurts_ , you know?”

Newt nods slowly, resuming his position next to Thomas. “But doesn’t she deserve to know? That you know?”

“I thought about it.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?”

“I saw what happened to you and Harriet. I saw what happened to my parents. I - I can’t _lose_ Teresa. She’s too important to me.” 

“Just because it didn’t work out between me and Harriet doesn’t mean it’s the same.”

“But it’s too close, isn’t it? What if this is right? What if we’re meant to just be friends and trying to be a couple ruins everything and we never speak again?”

“Is that why you’re with Brenda? Because you think she’ll stop crushing on you?”

_I’m with Brenda because even though I never had a girlfriend in high school, suddenly I managed to end up in three different love triangles in college and I don’t think I’ll ever really know what I’m doing._

“I do like Brenda. I do like being around her. And I did think Teresa would move on and realize she deserved better.”

“Tommy, she can’t get better than -“

Newt’s phone blares, startling both of them. “It’s just Sonya, I’ll call her back later -“

Thomas pulls out his vibrating phone from his pocket, showing Newt the caller ID in feigned confusion. “Minho’s calling me.”

Newt answers his phone, giving his sister short responses, allowing Thomas to answer Minho’s call without worry of him hearing the conversation.

_“We’re ready now.”_

* * *

“Happy birthday, Nude!” Minho, Sonya, Harriet, Teresa, Brenda, Frypan, Alby, Ben, Maria, Aris, and Rachel shout when Newt opens the door to his dorm.

His jaw drops and so does the pair of keys in his hands. 

In the dark, Minho, Sonya, and Harriet are proudly holding the misshapen cake with a ridiculous amount of candles that was _supposed_ to say, “ _Happy birthday, Newt! You’re an awesome shank_ ” while Teresa and Brenda are blowing party favors and laughing. 

And even though he’s seen the golden pink sunsets of Hawaii, the Eiffel Tower at night in Paris, and the email from Janson back in January, saying that class was cancelled because of all the snow - Thomas doesn’t think he’s seen a more beautiful sight.

Newt turns to him, surprise still glazed in his dark brown eyes. “This was you, wasn’t it?”

Thomas shrugs coyly, returning the smile.

Without warning, Newt’s arms wrap around Thomas’s neck and he hears a low voice in his ear, “Thanks, Tommy. You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.” 

He tries to ignore that Newt’s hot breath happened to trail over _that_ spot on his neck by scratching his neck violently.

Newt quickly blows out the candles, eliminating the only light source in the room and causing everyone to erupt into cheers.

* * *

As 9:00 pm approaches, and everyone is feeling pleasantly drunk, Thomas notices Minho standing outside on the catwalk, alone.

He excuses himself from Brenda and Teresa, who, in the midst of their conversation about a potential Black Widow movie, don’t even seem to notice he’s slipping away.

He pretends he doesn’t stumble trying to make it through the door way. “Hey.”

Minho looks up, a can of beer firmly in his hands. “Hi.”

“Why are you out here?”

“Why are _you_ out here?”

“I asked first.”

“I’m only telling you this because I’m drunk,” Minho says, which informs a buzzed Thomas that Minho is anything but drunk. “But I think Maria might be into girls.”

Thomas frowns. “Why do you say that?”

“After we played Spin the Bottle, she told me that she might be into girls.”

An image of Maria kissing Rachel minutes or hours earlier vaguely crawls into Thomas’s head. “Oh.”

“I’ll get over it. Liana from our Advanced Calc class is pretty, isn’t she?”

Thomas nods his head as if in agreement but blurts out, “Have you ever been in a serious relationship?”

Minho laughs. “Why be serious at 18? You only have four more years of fucking around before you really have to get serious. Why not take advantage of this little time we have left to just have fun?”

“You sound just like Newt. Why be adults when we can be kids?”

Minho turns around to find Newt, Sonya, Ben, and Harriet having a pillow fight. “Well, maybe that shank is onto something, after all. He looks really happy.”

Thomas wants to sit down because his head is feeling rather dizzy. “I’d hope so. This party wasn’t exactly cheap.”

“It’s because of you,” Minho says, turning back to Thomas. 

“It’s because of all of us.” Thomas says back, trying to resist - but failing - the urge to scratch his neck. “We all care about him. It’s nice to know someone cares.”

“Some more than others.”

* * *

After Minho and Newt’s dorm has been completely trashed and the keg completely empty, people start to litter out.

Before she leaves, Brenda goes to the bathroom, giving Thomas and Teresa a moment to be alone.

“This was a fun party,” She comments. “I’m glad I came.”

“I’m glad you did too.”

She smiles at him before looking off in the direction Brenda went. “She’s really nice, Tom. She’s a really nice girl.”

He sits down next to her on Minho’s bed, trying to ignore a sort of aching pain in his heart. He used to believe once that he and Teresa could feel each other’s emotions, but this time he's not sure who’s the one in pain.

“Thank you, T.”

“You’re not the one I gave the compliment to, you shank.”

He bursts out laughing with her, falling backwards so that they’re both lying next to each other, staring at the ceiling as if they could see the stars in the sky. “Yeah, but I never really thank you, do I? Just for being there.”

“I forget you’re an emotional drunk.”

“And I forget I take you for granted. I just expect you’ll always be there because you’ve always been there.”

“It’s not like you’re not always there for me.”

“You’ve always been there. And you’re always there.”

Teresa giggles. “Jesus, you are _such_ an emotional drunk. It’s actually quite -“

Even though she stops abruptly, her eyes popping open and her eyebrows creasing into a frown, Thomas hears her finish her sentence.

_Endearing_.

“What’s today?” She asks suddenly.

“Saturday. It’s Newt’s birthday.”

“No, no, what’s the date?”

“May 16th.”

They grow quiet, drowning out the sounds of a dying party around them, and it’s like time has stopped for them. He feels Teresa’s hand move closer to his, until her soft fingers have interlocked with his dry fingers. He feels her lips press against his temple, ever so gently, and her head rest on his shoulder.

He feels her body sit up as the sound of combat boots comes closer and her hand, still locked with his, pulling his body up as well.

“Ready to go?” Brenda asks, with her infectious enthusiasm. 

The moment passes and Thomas and Teresa become their livelier selves once more, saying goodbye to everyone in the room and wishing Newt one last happy birthday.

Tomorrow, the moment will come between them again, as he will try to isolate himself in his bedroom, staring at a football, wondering why he could never make himself like the game. And tomorrow, she will be there, staring at the football too, but talking about the Mets and how they really should go to the next home game even if it depletes their bank accounts.

Because they’re Thomas and Teresa, and being there for each other is what they do best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do sincerely apologize for this ridiculously late update - senior year is kicking my ass and i've only been in school for four weeks.  
> sooooo things happened! i'm curious to know what you guys thought - if you loved it/hated it, sympathize for thomas/ hate thomas. the more feedback, the better! i really liked this one and was super excited to publish it, so if there's grammar/mechanical mistakes, pls forgive me. i also just really liked the end {and maybe it's confusing}, but let me know what you guys thought!  
> i'm also going to see the scorch trials for the third time tonight because i loved it THAT MUCH. go see it if you can!!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where it's the last day of their freshmen year and everyone starts going their separate ways. {june}

_Ten minutes_.

“Isn’t it funny how we started the year with this class and this is where we’ll say goodbye?” Sonya asks, sighing sadly in their last Advanced Calculus class _ever_. “I’m going to miss you all.”

“We’ll be back in three months.” Harriet reassures her. “The time will go by before you know it.”

“She’s not worried about us,” Minho cuts in, rolling his eyes. “She’s worried about Ben finding a hotter chick.”

“Oh, shut up. Long distance relationships _can_ work.”

“They’re pointless.”

“You’re pointless.”

“Is that the best you can come up with, Newton? That’s pathetic.”

“You’re pathetic.”

“At least I’m not pining over lost hope.”

“At least I’m not pining over everything with a vagina on this campus!”

Thomas and Harriet were thoroughly enjoying the tennis match between the two until Sonya’s voice began to rise - as it normally did when she got riled up, practically reaching the heavens - and the whole class discovered Minho’s preferred taste in humans.

_Two minutes._

Sonya’s cheeks turn bright red from humiliation, while Gally’s cheeks turn bright red from laughing so hard. 

Janson stares at the four in the back, his expression filled with exasperation. “Just be happy everyone’s finished with the exam, already, and I don’t have to see you ever again. You’re all dismissed.”

Thomas can’t think of a time he’s felt more _elated_ than he does right now. Everyone throws their papers up in the air, whooping and cheering, while Janson scurries out the door, like a rat, before he can get trampled.

Sonya runs over to Ben, who swoops her up in his arms before pressing a kiss to her lips. They’re both laughing and grinning to each other, as if they’re the only two in the room and they won’t be separated by the Atlantic Ocean the next day.

Thomas’s mind flashes to Brenda, who should have just finished her last Politics and Society exam. He pulls out his phone to text her but notices Minho curiously staring at the couple in the front of the class.

“Jealous?” 

Minho rolls his eyes before smacking Thomas on the arm. “I could never see Sonya as anything more than a little sister.”

“Why are you staring?”

Minho contemplates his answer before turning to face Thomas and Harriet. “It’s the end of our freshman year. What if we don’t have the same classes next year and I can’t copy your homework?”

Translation: _What if we don’t have the same classes next year and our squad isn’t really a squad anymore?_

At least, that’s what Harriet interprets. “Even if we don’t have the same classes, we’ll still have the same bond. Nothing’s going to change our friendship.”

“Don’t make this sappier than it needs to be, Emmanuel.” Minho says with a little smirk. 

Harriet smiles widely and swings her arms around the necks of the two boys. “I’m going to miss this. Late night cram sessions in our dorm, getting kicked out of class and heading to Starbucks, throwing spit wads at Gally and his goons -“

“What?” Gally snaps his head up, from across the room. His eyes dart around the room until they focus in on Thomas, Harriet, and Minho.

Thomas just grins to his friends. “Yeah, nothing’s going to change.”

* * *

He finds Brenda waiting for him by the parking lot, with her two suitcases and duffel bag for her four week expedition to Paris and Prague.

He kisses her when he approaches and feels a smile spread across her lips. “Hi, Brenda.”

“I wish you were coming with us,” She says, sliding her hand in his. “I’m going to miss you all summer.”

“Ah, but you’ll come back, full of adventure and wanderlust, and find little old me and this little old town so uneventful that you’ll rush back across the ocean and find the perfect Parisian guy and it’ll be a _coo de food-dre._ ”

Brenda smirks before correcting him, “ _Coup de foudre_. You need to work on your French.”

“In Spanish, it’s _amor a primera vista_ , which actually makes sense.” Thomas rolls his eyes, in playful humor. “I’ll miss you too.”

He wants to savor this moment - this moment of being happy and young and carefree. Of holding Brenda’s hand and being able to kiss her, of not having to worry about another Theory of Politics or International Marketing assignment for three months. 

Freshmen year is finally over and he feels high off of freedom and friendship. He just wants to celebrate the friends he’s made and the fact he survived his first year of college, and savor this feeling of being on cloud nine.

But Brenda’s parents pull into the parking lot, earlier than he would have liked, and reality tries to seep its away into Thomas's blissfulness.

She squeezes his hand before kissing him sweetly but quickly. “Don’t forget this feeling.”

He helps her load her suitcases into her parents’ car, shakes her father’s hand, and kisses her mother on the cheek, before giving her one last goodbye hug.

He’s sure - in that moment - that nothing could make him forget this feeling.

* * *

The next day, Thomas is back in Minho and Newt’s dorm, helping them pack up all their belongings for the return home trip. He, once again, gave up on Minho, who threw all of his clothes into a suitcase and started doing push-ups in the corner.

“The ‘rents are driving in from Nevada this afternoon to collect all my stuff.” Minho said breezily. “They rented a van and everything.”

Newt grumbles to himself. “And some of us, lucky ones, have to ship the majority of our stuff across the pond and hope it doesn’t get stolen or misplaced.”

Thomas has just finished putting all of Newt’s textbooks and favorite books into a box and searches for the tape to seal it. “How long is it going to take for all of your stuff to get to England?”

“I have no bloody idea,” Newt said, tossing Thomas the roll of packing tape. “When we first shipped our stuff over here, though, a box of Sonya’s hair supplies went missing for a month.”

“You could always leave your video games with me,” Minho suggests. “I’ll take good care of them.”

“I don’t trust you or your vicious cat with my precious games.”

Thomas tries to hold back a snicker; Newt once showed him a picture of a long scar Minho’s cat, Cheshire, unleashed on Newt, who accidentally stepped on his tail. The Brit had hated the cat and the cat had hated the Brit ever since.

“I bet you would like him, Thomas. If you’re ever in Nevada, don’t hesitate to stop by.”

As a New England native, Thomas can’t conjure up any desire to ever swing by the desert-filled state but he doesn’t mind the idea of seeing Minho over the summer. “I might take you up on that offer.”

Sonya barges in then, hardly bothering to knock on the door, her arms full of shoes. “Newt, can you pack these with your stuff? I can’t fit anything else in my boxes and Mum will kill me if I ship more than three.”

“No.”

“Please, Newt? I’ll buy you three pounds of licorice once we get to Heathrow.”

“You’re not sneaky, I know you have three pounds of licorice from Mum’s visit last week. I don’t have room for your stuff.”

Behind Newt, Minho points to Thomas, causing Sonya’s eyes to travel to the box behind Thomas. “Yes, you do, you liar.”

“Give them to Harriet. She’s coming to visit in a month, she can bring them then.”

“I can’t wait a month for these! Elizabeth Beverly’s throwing us a welcome home party and I need the red ones. Pack the red ones and I’ll leave you alone.”

Newt rolls his eyes and takes the shoes from his sister. “You owe me, you bugger.”

“I love you! Oh, and Minho, your parents are downstairs waiting for you to bring your stuff down.”

Minho shoots up from his lying down position and follows Sonya out the door.

“While they’re gone, I wanted to give you something.” Newt tells Thomas, ducking into his closet for a second. “An early birthday gift, since I won’t be here for it.”

Thomas takes the wrapped box from Newt, a smile creeping on the tips of his mouth. “I’m surprised you remembered. You’re coming back the week after, aren’t you? You could’ve given it to me, then.”

“Open it up and you’ll see why.” Newt says, scratching the back of his neck. 

Thomas carefully unwraps the ribbon covering the rectangular gift box. He’s positive that his heart stops once he’s taken off the lid.

Because inside, are two tickets to the Mets vs. Phillies game _on_ his birthday.

“No way,” Thomas mutters to himself, before feeling the excitement rise up into his voice. “No _way_ , Newt, you’re the best! I’ve been trying to get tickets since last month - how did you get these?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” The blond says with a sly smirk.

The excitement swirls into his head and before he knows it, his arms fling around Newt and he’s exclaiming, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He hears Newt chuckle before he slides his arms around Thomas’s waist. “I had hoped you would like it.”

Minho chooses that minute to return back from downstairs and snorts as he lugs his giant suitcase back out the door. “Break it up, lovebirds, and help me carry all this stuff down to the van. Be quick, too - apparently the ‘rents are being charged by the hour.”

“Maybe next summer you can come out and visit with Minho,” Newt suggests as they unplug the Xbox. “You’d love London. Our uncle just opened a pub in Westminster.”

Thomas wishes he could have joined Minho this summer but the costly spring break trip had rendered him broke and in dire need of a job over the summer. The memory of the cost of Miami also brings back the memories of Miami and Thomas feels his neck turn hot. “Well, don’t fall too much in love with it and then decide the pubs in London are better and enroll in a university in London and never come back.”

Newt laughs as they pack the Xbox and Minho’s other electronics into a box to bring downstairs. “The pubs _are_ better in London. I’ll FaceTime you from one of them and you’ll wish you were there.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

* * *

“It’s over!” Teresa exclaims as they fall backwards onto her bed later that night. “We survived our first year of college and I say that calls for celebration.”

“What? You didn’t count that end of the year surprise party a graduation?”

It was almost midnight and the surprise party their parents threw for them had just started to die out, guests reluctantly starting to leave.

“Unless there’s alcohol, I don’t call anything a celebration.” Teresa smirks, pulling an expensive bottle of wine out from under her bed. “My Aunt Moira left it conveniently in the coat closet.”

“Oh, word.” Thomas says dreamily, his tongue accustomed to the crass flavor of cheap beer and straight vodka. “Are we pre-gaming?”

“There’s a party at the lake,” Teresa informs, pouring the wine into little shot glasses she hides in her make-up vanity. “On the count of three, we’ll take a shot for all the good and the bad that’s happened this year.”

“I’ll start with one bad thing, then: Janson.”

“A good thing then would be my French professor. He was dreamy.”

“Another bad thing: Gally.”

“I want to list a bad thing: that Thanksgiving party where Gally nearly knocked you out.”

“Oh, well then a good thing then would be Newt. Meeting him.”

Teresa looks at him curiously, raising her eyebrow. “Just him?”

“Each of them, of course, but we’re listing one thing at a time here, aren’t we?”

By the time they’ve finished making their list and taking shots, they’ve completed the entire bottle of Pinot Noir and are sprawled out on the bed, giggling and throwing stuffed animals at each other. Going to the party at the lake is about as feasible as Thomas marrying Angelina Jolie.

Teresa’s hand slides over to Thomas’s. “Don’t forget this feeling, Tom. Everything is going to change, after this year.”

He’s too drunk off of this feeling of freedom and friendship to understand what she’s talking about. “Next year, we’ll just be another year older, but we’ll be the same Thomas and Teresa we’ve always been.”

They won’t realize how right she is - in that moment - until two years later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so so sorry for this majorly late update! since it was such a short chapter, i wanted to post this chapter and the next one back to back but i've been so busy that i just barely managed to finish this one today. I hope you all like it! there's going to be quite a big time jump after this and in between the jump, let's just say things happen!


	10. Welcome Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Teresa? You’re trying to tell me Teresa hates you? Look, everyone keeps telling me not to tell you this but it’s been two years too long - the girl is crazy for you.”
> 
> Thomas doesn't say anything. Instead, he plays with his water bottle in his hands.
> 
> He can’t see it, but Minho frowns, looking at him suspiciously. “Why aren’t you reacting?”
> 
> “I know.”
> 
> or where thomas is surrounded by too much change and a silent teresa, sonya can't stop talking about ben, brenda's become an adult, minho's joined the track team, and newt might change his major a fourth time. {september/ two year time jump}

The last time Thomas had spoken to Teresa civilly was back in June, almost _seventy_ days ago.

Still, on the morning of their first day of junior year, he waits outside her house in his blue Jeep, ignoring the nerves trembling wildly in his stomach. He checks his phone for the time - 8:35 - while opening up their message stream.

The last text from her had been on his 20th birthday.

_Teresa [8/26,_ **_9:38 pm_ ** _]: Happy birthday, asshole._

_Thomas [8/26,_ **_9:39 pm_ ** _]: Can we talk? Please?_

_Thomas [8/26,_ **_9:59 pm_ ** _]: I never meant to hurt you, T. Please call me back._

He hadn’t expected her to respond to his text last night, but he sent it anyways.

_Thomas [9/3,_ **_7:34 pm_ ** _]: Ride up to the Glade together, like old times?_

Like with the other thousand texts he’d sent her since the fight, she’d read and ignored them.

His first class starts at 9:30 and the last thing he wants is to be late on the first day, but he can’t leave without her.

Five minutes later, he gets out of the car, pretends his fingers aren’t cold from anxiety, and makes his way to the doorbell.

Mary Agnes opens the door, her smiling face turning into a frown. “Thomas! I hadn’t expected to see you here this morning - Teresa said you couldn’t drive her so her father drove her. How was your birthday?”

“Ah, it was fine. How’s-” 

“I wanted to come over with a cake but Teresa said you had plans with your mother and Thomas, so we didn’t want to intrude.” Mary says, ushering Thomas into the house, even though he’s bordering on late territory. “Here’s a gift from us; Teresa picked it out at the store and said you would love it. Happy first day of junior year and happy belated 20th birthday!”

He doesn’t open the gift box until he’s back in his car, getting ready to start the engine. 

It’s a sterling silver watch from Macy’s, fit perfectly for a women’s thin wrist.

It’s also the same sterling silver watch from Macy’s he bought her last Christmas.

* * *

Although he ends up being late for his Creative Literature class, Sonya Newton’s familiar face in the front left corner of the lecture hall gives him a reason to smile.

She smiles brightly as Thomas slides into the seat next to her. “Hi, Thomas! It feels like just yesterday that I saw you.”

“I still miss London. Thank you again for letting us stay.”

“It was such a pity Teresa couldn’t come. It would have been like spring break all over again!”

Spring break part two was in Orlando and that was a time when Teresa and Thomas were still speaking to each other. 

By the time Thomas, Minho, and Harriet had finished pleading their bosses for time off for a week to venture “across the pond”, Teresa and Thomas were no longer on speaking terms.

His heart feels heavier and it takes more effort than he likes to keep the smile on his face. “Yeah, she would’ve loved it. How are you?”

He’s not quite sure if it’s relief or pity he feels when he recognizes the familiar strain on her face, to keep up a bright front. “Well. It’s going, I guess. I didn’t end up getting the internship with the designer.”

Thomas decides it’s sympathy he’s feeling. “Aw, Sonya, I’m sorry to hear.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. It’s just,” Her voice falters for a bit, her eyes traveling down towards her toes. “I’m almost 21, Thomas. We’re not first years anymore - we actually have to be serious about our future.”

_“It’s like you don’t realize we’re growing up. We’re no longer high schoolers who can spend almost two grand for Spring Break without consequences, we have to work on our resumes and actually plan what life is going to be like after college. We have to become serious.”_

“And this internship would have been _perfect_. I was really hoping she’d like me.” She sighs, her voice a little melancholy. A moment passes before she lifts her head again, sporting the bright smile he’d associated with her. “But no worries! Have you seen Ben? I tried to call him this morning but he wouldn’t answer his phone.”

It was safe to say the entire gang was more than surprised when the beginning of sophomore year rolled around and Sonya and Ben were still an item. Much to Newt’s chagrin, Sonya claimed she was the happiest she’d been in years. 

They were past surprised when the two remained a couple at the end of the year. It got to the point where they were _all_ irritated when every other word out of Sonya’s mouth became, “Well Ben and I -“.

“Sorry, I haven’t.”

“Or Harriet, possibly?” Sonya asks, looking at Thomas almost pleadingly. “She was a little - erm, distant, this summer, don’t you think?”

Thomas _does_ think that even the most patient and compassionate of people could develop murderous tendencies after listening to Sonya drone on about Ben every second she had - especially if they had to live with her during the school year.

“Are you still living with her?” 

“Of course. At least that’s what we agreed on when we last spoke to each other. And you know what? If she doesn’t want to speak to me, that’s fine but she’s wrong.” Sonya tells him indignantly, ignoring the professor’s pointed “ _shh!_ ” at her. She gasps and turns to Thomas, as the professor dimmed the lights to begin the presentation. “She’s jealous I have a boyfriend and she doesn’t, isn’t she?”

Thomas doesn’t realize the question isn’t rhetorical until he turns his head. “Wh-what? Why are you looking at me like that? Where did that even come from?”

Sonya rolls her eyes and huffs. “She and Frypan could have been a cute couple. Or her and Aris, remember? It’s not my fault she can’t hold a relationship.”

“Sonya, that’s not nice -“

“Shh,” She tells him, putting her fingers to her lips and pointing to the smart board in front of the class. “We have to pay attention.”

Thomas’s stomach does a sort of somersault as he hears a familiar voice in his head remind him, _everything is going to change._

* * *

“Hey Brenda,” He says when she opens the door to her apartment. “Nice place.”

“Isn’t it perfect? It’s small but big enough for three people,” She says, letting him in to see the wooden floors and beige walls. The living area and kitchen space are conjoined into one room, separated by a marble island counter, littered with wine bottles. Even though it’s only 12 in the afternoon, Thomas is more than ready to sink himself onto the cream colored couch and take a nap.

“Do you like it?”

“I _love_ it.” She says with a smile. “I finally feel like a grown-up! I have my own place with roommates, I have a job, I can drink wine - really, it’s perfect.” 

Thomas pushes another forced smile onto his face as he begins to feel a bit dizzy. Brenda’s dressed in a neat dark blue blazer and black pencil skirt and he can see the black briefcase he bought her in the corner of the room, under the green lamp. While she looks the part of a 21 year old secretary, he feels like he’s back in high school, watching Monica Gellar on his TV. “That’s fantastic.”

“How was your summer? Did you like London?”

“It was nice. Newt and Sonya’s parents were barely there so it felt like we had the place to ourselves.” 

“Did you go out to eat a lot? Last year, when I went abroad, the food sucked. I would’ve given you cool suggestions of places to eat if we hadn’t, you know.”

He and Brenda had broken up just before she went abroad to London for five months, giving neither of them much reason to try to keep connected long distance. He felt like she wanted to move too fast and she felt like he wasn’t serious enough.

_We have to become serious._

But he missed her witty charm and humor and the way her eyes would light up a room as she started talking about the world. Right after she’d returned, he’d immediately called her and asked her to the movies, where they decided being friends was better than not speaking to each other at all.

“Thank God we had Newt. And Sonya, of course, but she was always video chatting her boyfriend. It got to the point where even Harriet suggested we leave her behind.”

Brenda is just opening her mouth to say something when someone makes a noise in one of the bedrooms down the hall. “Oh! She woke up from her nap. That’s just -“

_Teresa_.

Her curly brown hair is tangled and her eye make-up is slightly smudged, but Thomas is just happy to see her again. 

“Teresa,” He tries to say before she rolls her eyes and pushes past Thomas. 

“Thanks Brenda. I’ll see you later.” Her raspy voice calls out before she slams the door shut.

Brenda frowns, watching her leave. “Well, that was weird. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” He says quickly before rushing out the door himself. He curses Brenda’s apartment for being the last one on her hall, on the third floor. Knowing the elevator would have been too slow for her, he rushes to the stair exit and races down, putting his track skills to use.

It’s still not good enough to catch up to Teresa and Thomas begins to wonder if his efforts will ever be good enough.

* * *

“Thank God we got our shit together and joined the track team,” Minho says later that day, after the first day of classes are finished and Thomas feels sufficiently overwhelmed.

“You’re only in it so we can watch the cheerleaders.”

“What’s wrong with watching cheerleaders?” Minho asks, before scanning his eyes over the trim group of girls doing conditioning exercises. “They want us to watch them.”

“Yes, as in watching them to appreciate their hard work and dedication to their sport.” Thomas replies, leaning down to stretch out his back. “Not as in over-sexualizing them and thinking about them naked.”

“Thomas, that’s why you haven’t gotten laid since Brenda.” Minho says, clapping Thomas’s back, causing the latter to immediately stand up straight and give him an evil eye. “I think you have a good chance with Rachel. She might be a little out of your league, but you’re actually pretty funny so that should boost your chances.”

“Thanks.” Thomas says sarcastically, turning to his water bottle on the bleachers. “And no thanks.”

“Dude, you’re 20 years old. It’s time to become serious here. You need to -“

“Will everyone stop telling me how much it’s time to become serious?” Thomas explodes, whipping back around to a bewildered Minho. “I _get it_. Just because I can’t wrap my head around it all doesn’t mean I don’t understand life keeps going on whether I like it or not.”

Minho frowns, taking a step back. “What the hell has your panties in such a twist?”

Thomas sighs loudly and plops down on the scorching bleachers, ignoring the burn searing through his shorts. “Teresa.”

“Are you banging Teresa?”

“ _No,_ Minho!” Thomas groans, putting his head in his hands. “She just hates me.”

“Teresa? You’re trying to tell me _Teresa_ hates you? Look, everyone keeps telling me not to tell you this but it’s been two years too long - the girl is crazy for you.”

Thomas doesn't say anything. Instead, he plays with his water bottle in his hands.

He can’t see it, but Minho frowns, looking at him suspiciously. “Why aren’t you reacting?”

“I know.”

“You know what?”

“I know that she liked me.”

“You know?” Minho asks in shock. “God, we all just thought you were dense as fuck.”

Thomas gives him a look of exasperation. “Thanks. She was my best friend, you know? I- I just couldn’t imagine a world where we weren’t best friends.”

The track coach blows his whistle, signaling that practice is starting, but Thomas has no desire to get up. He can’t muster up the energy to push himself up off the bleachers and run around the track for the next two hours, without feeling homicidal.

Minho looks between Thomas’s miserable form and the track where the other boys have begun to start laps. He sighs before saying, “This would be so much easier if you had a vagina and we could complain you had cramps.”

Startled, Thomas’s head pops up, a frown crossed between his eyebrows. “What the fuck are you-”

“Move your foot in and get up.”

“Minho -“ Is all that comes out of his mouth before a stabbing pain erupts in his left ankle and the discomfort spirals into tears forming behind his eyes. His body crumples until he’s practically lying down on the pavement.

He tries to refrain from screaming but a rather high-pitched squeal makes its way out of his system, attracting the unfortunate attention of the other track members _and_ cheerleaders.

The track coach, Jorge, runs over to them. “ _Hermano_ , what’s the problem?”

“He tripped over the bleachers, Coach.” Minho speaks for Thomas, who’s too blinded by pain. “He’d been having a rough day and wasn’t watching where he was going.”

Thomas has a list of unfavorable and ugly words he wants to shout at Minho right now, but the pain and acknowledgement of what Minho has done keep his mouth shut.

Coach Jorge turns to Thomas’s ankle and wraps his hands around it, causing Thomas to cry out. “Ah, _hermano_ , it might be swollen but definitely not sprained. Looks like you’re going to have to sit this practice out.”

Thomas waits until Coach Jorge has run off, beckoning Minho after him, before he gives the other boy the bird. Minho flips him off back, ignoring that Gally, Ben, and the other goon Thomas always forgets the name of are laughing at them.

Thomas lays sprawled out on the bleachers for the next two hours, calling Teresa at least twice and receiving her voicemail. By the time practice is finished, Thomas has just decided the perfect message.

“Minho, how does this sound? ‘Hey T, I know you’re still mad at me, but I need to talk to you.’” 

Minho looks at him expectantly.

“That’s it.”

“That took you two hours?” The other boy asks in disbelief. “That was the lamest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And you’re also welcome for getting you out of practice.”

“You _had_ to kick my ankle so hard I almost cried?” Thomas challenges, wincing as he tries to put pressure on it.

“It was the only way. If you really want Teresa to forgive you, that is not the way to go.”

Thomas just groans loudly in return, mutually ignoring Gally as the other boy passed him.

“Are you hungry?” Minho asks. “Newt and I are setting up the new apartment later but I could go for some pizza right now.”

“I’m supposed to meet Newt at that diner, like we did last year. It’s kind of like a tradition almost.” Thomas explains, heaving his gym bag onto his shoulder. He turns back to Minho, who’s watching him curiously in a slightly unnerving manner. “Did you want to tag along?”

Minho chuckles and follows Thomas out of the track field. “Nah, I’m sure you’d rather be alone. Besides, I think I’m going to get Ariana’s number.”

“Ariana?”

“The one with the green eyes.” Minho says, even though Thomas sees about seven girls with hazel colored eyes.

_Why be serious at 18? You only have four more years of fucking around before you really have to get serious. Why not take advantage of this little time we have left to just have fun?_

At least, _some_ things will never change.

As Minho’s walking off towards Ariana and the other hazel eyed cheerleaders, Thomas calls out, “Thank you, Minho.”

* * *

He sees Newt the minute he steps into the diner, with two chocolate milkshakes in front of him. He can’t help the smile that effortlessly appears over his face as he slide into the opposite booth. “Please tell me your day was as awful as mine was.”

“What? Seeing me in Humanities was that bad?” Newt asks, with a smirk.

“It was actually the worst part of my day.”

“I’m so flattered I have such an impact on your life.” Newt says, putting the menu down. “By the way, I’ve already called dibs on all your notes.”

“You are such a child.” Thomas tells him, but he feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. There’s no one reminding him how old he is or how serious he has to be - it’s just Newt. The epitome of Peter Pan.

“One day you’re going to tell me that and it’s going to feel brand new, like you haven’t said a million times before.” Newt says after the waiter has collected their order. “And that day will be the day I slay a dragon.”

“You should’ve said crocodile.” Thomas replies, to Newt’s confusion. “There was a crocodile in Peter Pan.”

“Look who’s the child now! I didn’t even remember that.”

“Well then you’re a horrible Peter Pan and you would be offending people across the nation if you tried to dress up as him for Halloween - _again_ \- this year.”

“I’m not the one who branded myself as Peter Pan, Tommy. That was all you.” Newt tells him, pointing to the watch Thomas gave him for his 19th birthday. 

“I can’t help it you look exactly like him. So technically, it’s all _you_.”

“Technically, it’s my parents,” Newt starts to say before he falters and a dark cloud crosses over his face. 

“So how was the rest of your summer?” Thomas asks, changing the subject. “Did you end up sending the manuscript to the editor?”

Newt shrugs. “I had second thoughts.”

“Why? The story was so good!”

“I decided I want to be a journalist instead of a writer. Teresa’s in my journalism class.” Newt tells him.

Thomas can tell by the way Newt’s avoiding _his_ face that he knows something’s not right. “So she told you.”

“Not exactly. Remember I once _thought_ she didn’t like me? Now I’m sure she doesn’t.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well she’d been giving me the cold shoulder, so I asked her about you,” Newt explains, swirling the straw in his milkshake. “And she told me that you could go fuck yourself for all she cared and refused to speak to me for the rest of class.”

Thomas feels like stabbing forks into his hands. “No, she just hates me.”

“I won’t lie. She’s clearly not your biggest fan right now, but I’ve always thought she never liked me. I don’t know _why_ , but I know that she doesn’t. What happened, anyways?”

* * *

_“Teresa’s outside.” Thomas said, getting up from his comfortable position on Newt’s bed. “I have to go.”_

_“Already?” The British boy asked, popping his head out from the closet. “I thought you were staying until after we left.”_

_“I have to give T a ride, I don’t think she’s feeling too good.” Thomas said, failing to mention that Teresa had been in a cranky mood the past few days. “Did Minho already leave?”_

_Newt nodded, emerging from the closet with an armful of hangers. “A couple hours ago with Harriet.”_

_“Here let me help.” Thomas said as the blond nearly dropped all the hangers. They both fell to their knees at the same time and as soon as Thomas looked up, he found Newt’s eyes merely inches away from his._

_“Just like Spring Break, eh?” Newt asked, a smirk decorating his lips._

_Thomas’s neck felt hot and his brain shut down, rather than supplying him with a witty comeback. He opened his mouth, most likely to say something stupid along the lines of “wh-wh-what?”, before he was saved by Teresa._

_She knocked loudly on the open door, a sigh escaping her mouth at the sight of them. “Tom? Are you coming?”_

_Thomas found it hard to look away from Newt, who was studying his face carefully, but forced himself to stand up, as if it were a difficult task. “Yeah.”_

_Teresa raised her eyebrow when he made no effort to move. “Thomas.”_

_“Right!” He turned back to Newt, who was still crouching on the ground._

_“I’ll be waiting by your car.” He heard Teresa say, her voice thinly veiled of impatience._

_“Hm."_

_“What?” Thomas asked, making a mental note to thank Teresa for her impeccable timing._

_“Do you ever get the feeling she doesn’t like me very much?” Newt asked him, sounding eerily like a conversation they might have had once before._

_Thomas’s eyebrows creased over his face and he shrugged. “She’s just stressed. Of course she likes you. But she’s right, I do have to go -“_

_“Before you go,” Newt interrupted, not unkindly, going back inside his closet. “Your birthday present.”_

_Thomas’s birthday wasn’t for another two months but he let Newt slip a wrapped box into his hands. “Open it when you’re home and then you can FaceTime me, telling me how amazing I am.”_

_Thomas rolled his eyes, holding out his arms for one quick goodbye hug. “Dear God, Minho has finally started to rub off on you.”_

_By the time he finally makes it to his car, his spirits were elated while Teresa’s were not. Out of the corner of his eye, he almost missed the slight roll of her eyes._

_“Are you okay?” He asked her, confused by her behavior._

_“I’m tired.”_

_They barely made conversation for the rest of the ride. It wasn’t until he pulled into her driveway that she noticed the wrapped gift box by his feet. “What’s that?”_

_“Nothing much. Just an early birthday present from Newt.” That time, he didn’t miss her exasperated look. “What’s the problem?”_

_“Why is there a problem?” She asked, almost innocently, not meeting his eyes._

_If he was having doubts about what Newt had said earlier, he certainly wasn’t now. “You know, Newt thinks that -“_

_If Teresa was a grenade, then Thomas’s words were the fuze that set her off. It was as if all the sleep-deprivation, term grade anxiety, and internship stress had finally caught up with her brain and were just waiting to be released. As soon as Thomas had paused for a breath, Teresa turned to him, her hands flying up in the air, “Newt thinks this, Newt thinks that - you would think that he was some sort of god by the way you talk about him.”_

_Thomas jumped a little and was completely startled, his brain failing to conjure up any reason that Teresa should be yelling at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”_

_“What the hell are you talking about anymore, Tom, that’s not about what Newt thinks or what Minho says or what Sonya does or what Harriet likes.” Teresa had unbuckled her seat belt at that point and hopped out of the car, Thomas scrambling to do the same. “It’s all you talk about!”_

_To say that Thomas was confused was an understatement. He reached out and grabbed her arm to slow her down from marching inside her home. “Teresa, what the fuck is going on here?”_

_“It’s always about them. I don’t feel like I’m hanging out with just you anymore when it’s the two of us - it’s like they’re all there with us!” Teresa exclaimed, pacing in front of him. “You don’t get the fact that we’re adults now, Thomas. We can’t keep pretending we’re not.”_

_“You’re right. I don’t get it. Because you went from point A to point B in a matter of four seconds and neither of them correlate with each other.” Thomas said frustratedly, talking with his hands, as he began to realize this wasn’t spontaneous. These were pent up, veiled emotions that Teresa had been harboring for God knows how long - that had finally manifested themselves into a tantrum._

_And Thomas wasn’t just confused anymore. He was almost hurt that Teresa had secretly begun to resent him without ever saying something. He’d always thought they could tell each other anything, whether or not it was something either of them had wanted to hear._

_She raked her fingers back through her hair, a pained look etching across her face. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say, Tom, I’m just trying to say something. It’s like you don’t realize we’re growing up. We’re no longer high schoolers who can spend almost two grand for Spring Break without consequences, we have to work on our resumes and actually plan what life is going to be like after college. We have to become serious.”_

_“I do get that -“_

_“Do you?” She challenged him, still not meeting his eyes. “Brenda was keeping you grounded and serious about life. She’s so ambitious and she’s a good influence on you -“_

_“Is this about Brenda?” Thomas asked, in utter disbelief. His face contorted into a series of bewildered expressions before he shook his head and frowned. “You’re mad at me,_ _right now_ , _because Brenda and I broke up_ **_five_ ** _months ago? You know out of all the people in the world, I didn’t think you would be the least happy about that.”_

_Teresa finally snapped her head up and connected her icy blue eyes to his. “What did you just say?”_

_He was just about to repeat what he had said moments prior before he realized exactly what he had just said. He wished he could shove his foot in his mouth but settled for pretending he hadn’t said anything at all. “I said I don’t understand why you’re mad at me right now for something that happened five months ago.”_

_“No.” Teresa said, her voice eerily calm and much cooler than he would have liked. “Why did you think I would be happy about you breaking up with Brenda?”_

_His silence confirmed what they both already knew she was beginning to figure out. His silence became a symbol of what would become of their friendship._

_“Oh my God,” Teresa stepped back, her eyes still focused on him. “Oh my fucking - you fucking **knew**? You _ _knew_ _all along?”_

_The fact that it was midday and most of the families in the neighborhood were still trapped in school or work remained a blessing for Thomas as Teresa’s voice crescendoed into a high pitched shriek. “It’s not what you think -“_

_“What do you mean?” She burst aloud, her hand clutching her shirt. “You knew how I felt about you and you never said a word? You let me - you_ _fucking_ _let me - pine after you, believing you just didn’t see what was going on?”_

_“Teresa, I couldn’t lose you -“_

_“Bullshit. That is such bullshit, Thomas, and you know it. Because if you couldn’t lose me, you wouldn’t have -“ Teresa faltered as her cheeks started to become more and more red, her voice becoming thin. “I can’t believe you. You were supposed to be my best friend, the person I loved the most. And you didn’t say_ _anything_ _.”_

_He felt his heart contracting as he realized just how uncannily right she was this exact time last year and how in a matter of minutes, his life had just turned upside down. “You’re the only constant person I’ve ever had in my life, besides my mom, Teresa. I couldn’t risk losing you. I never wanted to hurt you.”_

_She stared at him, disbelief coating her eyes, and her bottom lip quivering. “You know, Tom? I would’ve believed you once. When I was a kid and I believed you were a hero - the boy who could do anything and everything he set his mind to. That’s why - if you ever cared - that’s why I liked you so much. You were so full of hope that it was infectious and I just wanted to believe in you as much as you believed in the world. But I’m not a kid anymore and you’re no superhero.”_

* * *

Newt inhales a deep breath, leaning back against his booth. “Whoa.”

“You should just say it.”

Newt’s famous frown crinkles his eyebrows. “Say what?”

“I told you so.”

“Why would I say that?”

“You told me that it was wrong to keep that secret from her and now look what happened,” Thomas says, slumping down in his booth. “Now she hates me and the one thing I feared the most is actually happening. The irony of this situation fucking sucks.”

Newt’s frown deepens. “I don’t think I ever told you it was wrong. You thought you were doing the right thing.”

“And it wasn’t.”

“But how were you supposed to know that?” Newt challenges him, leaning in to the table. “You’re a good guy, Tommy, whether you believe that or not right now. You thought you were sparing her feelings. You were only thinking about what was best for her - not for you. Remember the Gally situation?”

“Why are you bringing _that_ up?”

“I told you not to tell anyone about what happened because it wasn’t our secret to tell. You wanted to tell everyone so they wouldn’t hate him for what he’d done. You’re a good guy, Tommy, you always mean well. Everyone knows that, including Teresa.”

“I never told her -”

“Because you _care_ about her.” Newt interrupts him. “Anyone with eyes knows that. She knows that. She’s just hurt and embarrassed. You have to give her time.”

“Yeah, but how much?” Thomas asks, sitting up straighter. 

Newt shrugs as the waiter brings them their food. “My sister is a lot better in these types of scenarios. I’ll set you up an appointment.”

“Very funny. Maybe you should be a psychologist.”

Thomas only means that as a good natured joke, but begins to feel vexed as Newt seems to take that suggestion seriously. “You know, I could be a psych major. I’m patient. I listen to people. I’d be a _great_ psychologist.”

“Newt, you can’t change your major _four_ times!”

* * *

When he returns home later that night, he finally feels accustomed to pulling in next to the police car in his driveway.

He opens the door to his house and drops the key in the bowl next to the door, calling out, “I’m home!”

His mother pops her head out from behind the kitchen. “Hi, honey! Tommy’s already in the dining room, dinner’s gonna be ready soon.”

His mother’s new boyfriend having the same name as him would _not_ be something he would ever become accustomed to.

He makes his way into the kitchen, kissing her on the cheek, before going to the refrigerator. “I was just out with Newt at that diner by the campus. I’m not really hungry.”

“You were out with Newt?” His mother asks, looking at his back with a knowing smile.

“I did just say that.”

“Oh, Thomas. Enough with the sass. Go say hi to Tommy.”

He tries not to shudder at the nickname before pushing past the swinging door into the dining room. Officer Tommy - a tan, middle-aged man with a light shadow under his face and dark eyes - is indeed sitting at the table, reading the local paper. He glances up to greet Thomas. “Hey! How was your first day?”

“Not too horrible.” Thomas says. “How was your day?”

“Not too horrible, either.”

That’s normally the extent of their conversations.

His mother always tried to get him to say _more_ and be more friendly to him, to which Thomas always replied, “You couldn’t have chosen someone who didn’t have the same name as me?”

This particular night, after his dinner with Newt, Thomas is feeling a little more conversational than normal. “Do you get to carry a gun with you at all times?”

Officer Tommy looks up from his paper. “Ah, yes. When I’m out on the field. Not when I’m at my desk, though. It unnerves the interns.”

Thomas chuckles. “Maybe my friend should intern there. He’s been having a little, er, _trouble_ , choosing a major.”

Thomas’s mother comes in through the door with a pot of steaming vegetables, placing them in front of the roasted chicken. “Dinner’s ready!”

Thomas observes the food in front of them before getting up. “I’m going upstairs.”

“What?” His mother asks in surprise, as if the fact he’d just eaten less than an hour ago hasn’t registered properly.

“I already ate, I told you.”

“But stay and chat with us about your first day!” She requests.

“Later,” Thomas calls over his shoulder as he ascends the stairs. “I have to do something real quick.”

He moves into his bedroom, where the same Mets poster frames are hanging up on the same beige walls. He pulls out his cell phone and dials a number.

After two rings, it immediately goes to voicemail: _Hey, it’s Teresa. Sorry I couldn’t take your call right now - but I’m not sorry if it’s you, and you know who you are. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back!_

The phone beeps and Thomas clears his throat before beginning his message. “Hey T, it’s me. As you probably know, since you ignored my call. But um, I just - I just wanted to talk to you. Because I don’t remember a first day without you by my side - where we weren’t talking or lying on one of our beds, complaining about the day.” He pauses before looking down at his hands, trying to form coherent sentences that she hopefully would listen to. “I’m really sorry, Teresa. I’m sorry that I hurt you and I just hope that you’re - well, that you’re doing okay. I miss you.”

He hangs up the phone and looks around his lonely room, trying to reconcile with himself that at least he _saw_ her today. Even if it was for only three seconds and that she ran off afterwards - at least he saw her.

He opens the door, with every intent of going back downstairs, before he hears his mother’s musical laugh travel up the stairs. When he was younger and his father was still around, he used to think that her laugh was so beautiful that it could bring out fairies from Neverland.

He hasn’t heard her laugh like that in awhile.

So he slinks back into his room, quietly closing his doors, and reconciling with himself that out of all the changes he’d suffered in one day - this one he could handle.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for keeping up with my story :) some of you have left the KINDEST reviews and it honestly makes my day so so so much better. this chapter is a little on the longer side and i hope it makes up for being MIA! comment and leave kudos if you like, or hit me up on tumblr at wckedlightwood.tumblr.com :) xx


	11. (Un)Happy Halloween(ie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe there’s a reason he doesn’t mind thinking about Spring Break of freshmen year sometimes. Maybe there’s a reason he’d rather spend a Friday night with Newt alone, while Minho, Sonya, and Harriet tried to sneak into a bar. Maybe there’s a reason the thought of going away for six months and then coming back just as Newt left for the summer drove him insane. Maybe there’s a reason that every decision he seems to be making these days ends up coming back to Isaac Newton.
> 
> “Oh my God,” Thomas groans, turning over on his back to stare up at the ceiling. “I have a crush on Newt.”
> 
> or where Sonya asks Thomas a very personal question, where Minho makes a startling confession, where Thomas realizes something very important, and where Halloween isn't very happy this year.

September swiftly fades into October, where the leaves turn red and begin to fall off the trees. Where the first month back to college jitters turn into laziness and procrastination. Where the warming tensions become heated blowouts between friends.

By the first week of the new month, Thomas has finally picked up on the hint that carpooling with Teresa is no longer an option. Each time he went over to her house in the morning, her mother would smile sadly, informing him that Teresa’s father already drove her or she had stayed overnight with a friend.

Thomas is becoming increasingly suspicious that her friend has short black hair and goes by the name of Brenda Salazer, but Brenda remains coy on Teresa’s whereabouts whenever he asks.

“She’ll talk to you when she’s ready, Thomas.” Brenda tells him one night as she pours him a glass of wine in her apartment. “Remember, that she’s just hurt and embarrassed.”

But even after three glasses of white wine and constant coaxing from Brenda that Teresa’s not there, he can still smell her favorite perfume wafting from the bedrooms.

Sonya Newton is no help. She’s wrapped too much in her problems with Ben and Harriet that Thomas’s falling out with Teresa is more of a pesky fly buzzing around her than a serious concern.

“Just apologize. She’s a girl. Girls love that.” She tells him breezily as they walk downtown to the mall, with ten of Sonya’s resumes in hand. Minho’s just announced that he’s continuing his annual Halloween party tradition at the end of the month and the two are on a hunt for potential costumes and jobs.

“It’s not as if I haven’t apologized a million times,” He mutters under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said, would you look at all the signs?” He says instead, pointing to the various advertising posters for local concerts on some store windows. “You’d think Jacob Stoll and the Party Ponies wouldn’t attract that large of a following but you’d be wrong.”

Sonya’s mind has already wandered. “Do you think Ben would be interested in them?”

Thomas actually snorts, causing Sonya to turn her attention back to him. “Ben would have to be blind and deaf to actually consider going to their concert. And even then, he would make excuses to leave.”

Sonya sighs, looking more dejected than Thomas has ever seen her.

“What’s wrong?”

She pauses for a minute, carefully choosing their words as they approach the large mall in the heart of downtown. “I think Ben and I - well, I think he’s moving on from me.”

“Why do you say that?”

They sit down on a bench outside the front entrance and Thomas notices that her cheeks have become red and she's struggling to look him in the eye. “Times like these, I wish Harriet wasn’t mad at me or whatever. It’s sort of, uh, a girl to girl thing.”

“I’m sure she’s not mad at you -“

“Then why does she barely speak to me anymore?” Sonya presses, finally looking him in the eyes. “I feel like whenever I see her I’m talking to a stranger. When she came to London, she was even acting different. Did I do something?”

Thomas has learned his lessons with secrets - no matter how hard one tries to conceal them, they’ll find their way to the surface eventually. But along with Gally’s secret, he knows that Harriet’s annoyance with Sonya is not his secret to tell.

“She could be stressed.”

“I’m stressed, too!” Sonya complains, her eyes becoming wilder and her voice becoming more desperate. “I don’t have a job, I can barely afford food, my brother has his own apartment while I have to stay stuck in a crummy dorm, and my boyfriend and my best friend are acting weird. I feel like the whole world’s against me.”

Thomas wraps his arm around her shoulder as she leans her head onto him, her voice beginning to quiver. “Sonya, I know it seems bad right now. It’s just the start of junior year, everything is changing and it’s hard to keep up with it all.”

“You’re the only one who will listen to me anymore, Thomas. Everyone’s too busy for me these days and I - I just I don’t know what to do.” Her voice becomes lower as she pulls away and looks him directly in the eyes. “I have to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“Are you a virgin?”

“What?” Thomas frowns, his voice rising a couple octaves, feeling like he missed a crucial piece of their conversation. 

“Ben’s not,” Sonya clarifies quickly. “And he’s been wanting to have sex for the past _year_ , but you see - I am. And I’ve always wanted my first time to be with someone special and in a special, romantic setting - not when we’re drunk and he’s horny.”

Thomas tries hard not to cringe, because this is very much girl territory and he’d much rather not think about Newt’s sister’s sex life. He can only see the situation from Newt’s perspective, talking with your sister about sex and feeling so unbelievably uncomfortable that screaming “penis” during a family gathering seems more appealing.

“I,” Thomas begins to say, drawing out the word, “have no idea what to say.”

Sonya smiles, albeit a bit sadly, and pats him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Thomas. Thank you for just listening to me. I had to tell _someone_ and Minho would laugh at me if I even brought up the subject.”

They both get up from the bench and Thomas lets her wrap her arm around his waist, while he slides his arm around her shoulders again. “What are friends for?”

“Do you think my brother’s a virgin?”

Thomas’s heart contracts painfully and he almost sees stars for a couple seconds. “What? Why are you asking me?”

“Oh, relax, I’m just curious. I didn’t expect you to get so jumpy,” Sonya comments as they walk into the mall. “We never talk about these kinds of things but now I wanna know. Do you think he did it with Harriet?”

Thomas knows the answer from a primary source but he would rather let Newt deal with that. “Harriet never told you if they did?”

“I never asked.” Sonya almost shudders. “It creeped me out to think about it too much.”

As they travel through Macy’s, Sonya walking up to each department manager and handing out her resume and enamoring smile, Thomas almost thinks about telling her what happened during Spring Break with her brother.

The thought is so preposterous that he turns his head to scratch his neck when she beckons him out of Macy’s to another department store.

* * *

“Of course you have to apologize first,” Minho tells him as they’re leaving their International Economics class the following Tuesday. “You always apologize to girls first, even if they’re wrong.”

“But I _have_ apologized.” Thomas complains. “I’ve been apologizing for the past _three months_.”

Minho turns to him and makes a “hm” sound. “Well then, my friend, you are fucked.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t worry, Thomas, she’ll come around. They always do. But right now, we have more pressing matters to deal with.” Minho informs him, as they sit down at a bench outside of the cafeteria. “I think I have a problem.”

Thomas frowns. “What?”

Minho pauses for a moment and averts his eyes. “I think I really like this girl.”

Thomas looks at him exasperatedly. “What the - are you joking? Minho, you like girls every other day of the week, this is not a pressing matter -“

“No, no, no, this time it’s different, you know?” Minho interrupts, becoming very serious, which unnerves Thomas. “I _really_ like her. More than I just want to take her to my apartment for the night and move on after. I want to know everything about her; what she likes, her favorite kind of music, her family, and, like, her childhood. Thomas - I think I have a crush.”

Thomas stares at him, flabbergasted. “Really? Who is it?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why not?” Thomas whines, ignoring the freshmen passing them by and staring.

“Because the last time I told you something, your big mouth went and told Newt, who told Harriet, who told Sonya, who told Ben, who told someone else until it got around the entire fucking campus that I watched The Notebook by myself!”

Thomas quickly presses his water bottle to his lips, to suppress the laugh trying to erupt at the memory. “I didn’t think Newt would tell anyone.”

“I didn’t think _you_ would tell anyone!”

Thomas can’t help it as the laugh finally overcomes him and he’s holding his sides from laughing so hard. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was an awful thing to do and I’m a horrible person. Will you tell me now?”

“No because for the first time, I think I have a chance with this girl.” Minho says. “And you’re not going to ruin it.”

“Going to ruin what?” Harriet asks abruptly, sliding into the bench next to Thomas, who jumps. “Did I scare you?”

“You _startled_ me,” Thomas corrects, before looking to Minho, who’s giving him a warning stare. “Minho’s upset that I told Newt he watched The Notebook by himself.”

Harriet cracks up and Minho rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, make all the fun you want. I was _bored_ and Newt wasn’t there so I had to resort to desperate measures.”

“Well when I’m bored, I hide Sonya’s make-up under my bed and call it a night.” Harriet teases.

“Speaking of Sonya, I think she’s going through a tough time.” Thomas says.

Harriet and Minho both roll their eyes. “Sure she is. She must have bought Ben the wrong cologne and he forgive her after _two_ minutes, instead of one.”

Minho snorts. “Or they were on a date and Ben stared at another girl for two seconds.”

“Guys, I’m serious.” Thomas explains, as they high five each other. “She’s really upset and she wouldn’t mind if you guys talked to her.”

“What, like you’re not tired of hearing the same “Ben this”, “Ben that” over and _over_ again?” Harriet challenges him, exasperatedly. “I swear I know more about Ben than his _parents_ do.”

“But you should tell her that.” Thomas urges. “Take it from me - the last time I didn’t tell Teresa something went horribly wrong and she hasn’t spoken to me since.”

Harriet and Minho exchange looks with each other before sighing. 

“Don’t you miss us all hanging out with each other?” He continues. “When we would all go out and do crazy shit and just have a good time?”

“Yeah.” They both say tiredly. 

“When we’d all sneak into a bar or go to the movies or -“

“Yes, Thomas.” Minho cuts him off. “Those were good times.”

“They can still be good times.” Thomas says. “Just talk to her. Please?”

* * *

The following Friday, Thomas spends the evening at Newt and Minho’s new apartment, helping Newt unpack the kitchen materials.

He holds up a package of 100 plastic plates. “I take it you don’t like our planet?”

“Glass plates from Ikea were too expensive.” Newt explains, dumping a package of plastic silverware into a random drawer.

“They’re less than a dollar.”

“But those were only $5!” Newt justifies. “If we bought 10 glass plates from Ikea, we’d be spending extra money which we really don’t have.”

Newt and Minho’s apartment is less sophisticated than Brenda’s, clearly inhabited by two teenage boys. The living room has a small TV on the wall next to the door and a large blue sofa - (“That’s like your honorary bed, Tommy,” Newt told him when he first came in, “You’re practically here all the time, anyways.”) - on the opposite wall. The bathroom is complete with a sink, toilet, shower, and two toothbrushes. 

“I suppose buying toothpaste constitutes as spending extra money for no reason?”

Newt looks over his shoulder at him. “I’ve decided I like you better when you’re not sulking over Teresa.”

“Do you know what she’s doing right now? She’s on a _date -_ a double date with Gigi, Jacob, and some guy I’ve never met!”

“And you’re upset because you’re stuck with me for the night?” Newt smirks playfully, putting his hand up when Thomas tries to say otherwise. “I’m kidding. I bet the guy is horrible, has bad breath, and is too touchy-feely.”

Thomas feels horrified and gaps. “You think he’s gonna try to make a pass on her tonight?”

“Jesus, Tommy, calm down. If there’s anything I know about that girl, is that she can take care of herself. Relax.” Newt says in a strangely calming voice, coming around the table to sit next to Thomas. “Breathe in, breathe out.”

Thomas just stares at him.

“Alright, tough crowd.”

Thomas frowns and drops his head on the table. “What if she studies abroad in Paris for six months and I never have the chance to talk to her?”

“She’s not going to leave without making amends with you. I bet she misses you just as much as you miss her. She wouldn’t make it six months without some form of communication with you.”

“Well she’s doing a good job of it so far.” Thomas says mournfully.

“Enough of this pity fest,” Newt tells him, standing up and throwing Thomas’s jacket to him. “Let’s go do something fun.”

“Like walking barefooted across a pile of scorching hot nails?”

“Or something a little less sadistic, like the movies?” Newt suggest casually, practically pushing Thomas out of the door. “My sister and Ben are there. We can spy on them.”

“Haven’t we done that before and gotten caught?” Thomas reminds him stubbornly as the chill October night air seeps onto his exposed arms. He quickly puts his jacket on and stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“Are you in the mood for a burger?”

“Not exactly.”

“Ice cream?”

“Meh.”

“Crank Palace?”

“Eh.”

“Do you wanna just keep walking around?” Newt suggests, faint exasperation lacing through his words.

Thomas looks at him apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’m ruining your Friday night.”

“You could never ruin anything for me.” Newt tells him softly, in a way that unintentionally makes Thomas’s palms start to sweat.

He’s about to stutter something inanely stupid like, _thanks_ , until his eyes travel over Newt’s chained watch that he bought him for his birthday, the homage to London. “Are you planning on studying abroad?”

Newt almost snorts. “This is me studying abroad.”

“Oh, right.” Thomas says, laughing nervously alongside him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Newt looking at him curiously. “Are you thinking about it?”

“Thinking about what?”

“Studying abroad, you wanker.”

“What’s a wanker?”

Thomas eventually realizes they’re walking in circles around Newt and Minho’s neighborhood, a nicer part of the city. Maybe Newt’s already figured out the answer to his question by now.

“You’re stalling.” Newt says, coming to a stop in front of the neighborhood park and he sits down on the curb, rubbing his sore leg. “You stall when you’re nervous.”

“No I don’t.” Thomas says, sitting beside him and scratching the back of his neck.

Newt makes a “hm” sound, with an amused smile, as he reaches behind Thomas’s neck to put his hand on top of Thomas’s fiddling hand. “You also scratch your neck. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you’d scratched the skin off by now.”

The close proximity of Newt’s body and the low, even tone of his voice tranquilizes Thomas’s nerves, all the while sending electric shocks towards his heart.

It’s finally when Newt pulls away that Thomas begins to realize _something_.

“Um, well, I, uh, I wouldn’t mind going to Spain.” He says quickly, turning away from Newt. “My father, when he was around, promised to take me after I graduated college. We’d talk about it all the time. It was the plan until, well you know.”

He can’t see Newt looking at him sympathetically from behind, but the sentiment is there in his voice. “Have you cleared it with your advisor?”

Thomas shrugs, still facing away from him. “I, uh, I have enough credits. If I wanted to.”

“Do you?”

Newt’s voice is soft and soothing, like a hidden challenge waiting to be met. Thomas turns around to face him - to tell him “honestly, anything’s fair game at this point” - when he looks the other boy in the eyes and realizes he is utterly _fucked_.

“Do I what?”

* * *

When he gets home that night, his mother’s car’s not there and the lights are turned off in the house. He gets his answer when he comes inside and finds the note,

_Thomas,_

_I’m out with Tommy for the evening. I hope you had a wonderful night, I love you._

_Mom_

He rushes up the stairs to his room, closing the door, despite the intense privacy he has. He reaches into his pocket and absentmindedly dials a number.

_Hey, it’s Teresa. Sorry I couldn’t take your call right now - but I’m not sorry if it’s you, and you know who you are. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back!_

Beep.

“Hey T, I um, I _really,_ really need to talk to you right now.” He says, raking his fingers through his hair and pacing around in front of his bed. “I’m sorry that I messed up, okay? I don’t know what you want me to say anymore. I’ve been sorry, I am sorry, and I will _always_ be sorry. But I need you, Teresa. I really need you right now.”

He hangs up the phone and chucks it across his room, diving onto his bed head-first. His pillow doesn’t allow oxygen to reenter into his lungs, but his mind isn’t foggy yet. It’s more clear than it’s ever been.

Maybe there’s a reason he doesn’t mind thinking about Spring Break of freshmen year sometimes. Maybe there’s a reason he’d rather spend a Friday night with Newt alone, while Minho, Sonya, and Harriet tried to sneak into a bar. Maybe there’s a reason the thought of going away for six months and then coming back just as Newt left for the summer drove him insane. Maybe there’s a reason that every decision he seems to be making these days ends up coming back to Isaac Newton.

“Oh my God,” Thomas groans, turning over on his back to stare up at the ceiling. “I have a crush on Newt.”

* * *

Halloween comes far quicker than Thomas would have wished, but he finds himself a couple weeks later standing outside of Newt and Minho’s apartment, in his time-honored Mets costume.

A couple of girls come up behind him, reeking of cheap vodka and expensive perfume. “Are you going to go in?”

One of the girls - Liana, from one of his classes a couple years back - looks at him suggestively. Her pretty hazel eyes travel up and down his body and she smirks her painted red lips. “Thomas. How are you?”

“I think I’m fine.” He smiles back politely before rushing in through the door.

The parties Minho threw the past couple of years back at the Glade are _nothing_ compared to the raging blowout happening in the apartment right now. Beer cans and red solo cups litter the floor, finally giving the two boys decorations for the spacious room. The rapid beat of rap music flows through the walls and vibrates in Thomas’s chest. The young adults are so close to each other that any Catholic school nun would have passed out by now.

In the middle of all the commotion, Sonya Newton manages to find him, as she always does.

"Thooooommmmas!" She exclaims, drawing out his name like a song and pressing her smiling face close to his shoulder. “Harriet and I are the best of friends again. And Minho told me I was possibly the most annoying but lovable sister he’s never had! Isn’t it fantastic?”

He almost asks about Ben, who doesn’t seem to be at the party, but he decides he likes Sonya’s good mood. “It’s perfect. What are you, anyways?”

She’s dressed in a very skimpy black skirt that barely covers her unmentionables and a tight black tee shirt, with white socks up to her ankles. Her red lipstick is carefully smeared down her jaw. “I’m a vampire! I’d ask what you are, but you haven’t changed one bit, have you Thomas?”

_If you forget the fact that Teresa won’t speak to me and I think I have a crush on your brother._

“Well, I would hope not.”

“Brilliant! Let’s go take jello shots off of Harriet!”

“ _Off_ of?”

By the time 10:00 PM rolls around, Sonya and Thomas have inebriated themselves into a legendary drunken stupor, the kind where in the morning neither of them will remember a thing. Harriet tried to keep up with them, but collaborates with Minho to film their crazy antics instead.

Thomas reaches for another shot of Smirnoff but Harriet blocks his reach. “Ah, not for you. We don’t need anyone getting alcohol poisoning.”

Thomas’s head is so hazy that he swears he’s seeing _two_ Harriet’s. One is in the white silky halter dress and gladiator angels she was wearing earlier and the other is in a red minidress with spiky combat boots.

The white dressed Harriet is telling him softly to lie down in Newt’s room, where the blond most likely was, and take a tylenol. The red dressed Harriet is calling him a softy and is urging him to tickle her and reach for the vodka.

He does what he thinks she commands.

“Thomas!” Harriet shrieks, as his fingers tickle her stomach and she drops her phone. Her laughter sounds like bells ringing to the heavens and birds chirping and Thomas just wants to lie down and listen to the church choir singing.

He isn’t aware that he falls to the floor in the process. But no amount of alcohol could drain out the sound of her voice.

“Thomas!” She says worriedly, her voice low as she puts her hand on his shoulder. “Tom, are you all right?”

He turns on his side to look up into her beautiful blue eyes, a sight he’s sorely missed. 

“Teresa! You’re here. You’re here, T.”

And may all the forces in Heaven strike him blind if he doesn’t see her smile just for a moment. Just for that one moment, which doesn’t change anything but maybe makes him feel better for that one moment.

Until he sees the looming figure behind her, with pointed eyebrows and freckles splashed across his face. Thomas feels like he’s staring into Satan’s shadow.

“What’s _he_ doing here?” Thomas spits out as Teresa helps him to his feet.

It’s Gally’s smirk that makes him put two and two together - Teresa’s lovely blue eyes darkened by black eyeliner and mascara, the golden crown atop her head, the slitted white dress and gladiator sandals. If Gally isn’t the Marc Anthony to Teresa’s Cleopatra, then Thomas is Eddie Fisher.

“Are you _with_ him?” He accuses Teresa, the words flying out of his mouth before his brain could stop him.

He forgets that his brain is off duty for the night.

“So what if I am?” Teresa says back, resting her hands on her hips. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“Don't you remember freshmen year? You sound like such a child, I can’t believe you.”

“You are such a child! You’re the one who won’t grow up.” Teresa glares. “I can’t believe I almost gave you a chance.”

“Gave me a chance to what? Call your cell phone, which you’d just ignore? Leave you another four hundred voicemails, which you’d just delete?” Thomas spits angrily, his head becoming a hazy cloud of anger. “You’re the one who won’t grow up! If you wanna be so serious, then stop being a baby and get over it already.”

Teresa gasps, as if he’s just sucker punched her grandmother. She takes an angry step towards him, ignoring their classmates staring at them, straining to hear the argument over the blaring music. “I _am_ over it, Thomas! I’ve been over you since the summer!”

Her voice is shrill and Thomas just wants to lie down in a meadow, full of blue tulips, with the sun shining down on his back. But his anger wipes away the daydream and fills him with resent.

“And you think the adult thing to do is ignore me? Pretend I don’t exist?”

“I don’t _have_ to forgive you! You’re an asshole. I don’t need you, anyways.”

The high levels of vodka and beer in his system numb the sting of her words and heighten the tension he’s already feeling. “Well, I don’t need you, either!”

She smirks angrily before pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Yeah, that’s not what you were saying two weeks ago.”

He stares at her in disbelief. All this time, he’d believed she’d just deleted his voicemails, not hearing the pain in his voice, but she’d listened to them all along? He could understand reading texts and ignoring them - but she’d _heard_ him, she’d heard the genuine desperation in his voice.

She’d probably been reveling in his misery while Gally shoved his tongue down her throat and slid his hands up her sides. “You’re such a b-“

“Hey Tommy,” A quiet, British accent swims into his ears as he feels a hand on the small of his back. “Let’s go outside, eh? It’s much cooler out there.”

In his peripheral vision, he can see Sonya, Harriet, and Minho crowding around Teresa, who’s firm grip on her phone makes her appear murderous. 

If only he would have looked at her eyes, however. 

But he only sees Sonya, Harriet, and Minho crowded around her. He only sees them taking her side over his. Suddenly, all he wants to do is lie down and curl around a football, pretending the world doesn’t exist.

“They hate me. I hate me.” Thomas laments stubbornly, so quietly that Newt has to lean closer to hear him over the drunken roar of college students with alcohol.

“They don’t hate you,” He says soothingly, leading Thomas back towards the bedrooms. “You should lie down.”

He helps Thomas to his bed before turning around to the open door, the hallway light flooding in.

“Where are you going?” Thomas asks defensively, cocooning himself in the covers.

“To find a tylenol somewhere. You’ll need it.”

“Stay!” Thomas bursts out before retreating back under the covers. “Just stay awhile, won’t you?”

Newt looks at him strangely. “You’re going to wake up with a wicked hangover. You should probably want a tylenol and seven gallons of tea.”

“Right now, it’s not that bad.” Thomas tries to convince him. “That’s all that matters, right? That right now Teresa is telling Minho, Sonya, and Harriet what a monster I am and how I deserve to rot in a hole.”

Newt comes a bit closer. “All that matters is that you’re drunk. You said some things you didn’t mean.”

“But she wasn’t.” Thomas says gloomily, casting his eyes downward. “She wasn’t drunk at all.”

Newt sighs before turning around to lock the door from the inside. “She was upset. She’ll regret it in the morning. As will you. You should try to get some sleep.”

“I’m in your bed.”

“I’ll take the sofa when everyone leaves.”

Thomas almost scoffs. “That won’t be until 2am in the morning. Here, just come lie down next to me.”

Newt’s eyes widen a fraction before he regains his composure. “What?”

The multiple shots of Smirnoff and Sammy Adams curl his lips into a smirk. “I won’t bite. I promise. Sort of.”

Newt still looks hesitant so Thomas pulls one final card out of his sleeve and whispers just loud enough for Newt to hear him over the music throbbing through the walls, “It’ll be just like Spring Break.”

Newt can’t even conceal his surprise as his jaw drops and a chortle escapes his throat. “Just like it?”

Thomas shrugs, his lips still turned up devilishly. “Probably not. But it is fun to mess with you.”

“You’re a horrible person.”

“Just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

“You’re drunk.”

“So were you.”

“You’ll forget this in the morning.”

The words he wants to say are, _At least I won’t forget you._ But the words he actually says are, “I thought you always said the present was all that matters?”

Newt makes a “ha” sound before Thomas feels another body slide down onto the mattress beside him. “Goodnight, Tommy.”

“Night, Nude.”

“I’m going to hurt you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that I will work on the next chapter all this weekend and get it up by Monday - I'm dying to write the next two! Lots of drama. Lots of Newtmas. Lots of Thomas and Teresa going to happen.  
> I really like this idea of Teresa and Brenda being friends despite the whole thing with Thomas - if you've seen The Scorch Trials press tour, you'll know how adamant Kaya and Rosa are about not pitting the girls against each other, as each has a separate relationship with Thomas.  
> Anyways, I hope you all liked it. Even if you didn't, thanks for reading :) your kind reviews mean the whole world to me.


	12. Thanks For Giving Me Your Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He lifts his head and turns back to Minho. “What are you talking about?”
> 
> Everyone else turns their eyes away, but Minho stares him straight on. “What are you talking about? Do you seriously not remember what happened?”
> 
> The tone of the room has turned too serious and grave for Thomas’s liking, who quickly sits up straight. His head doesn’t appreciate the sudden movements. “What happened?”
> 
> “Oh dear God, we didn’t realize you were that drunk.” Sonya murmurs.
> 
> or where thanksgiving has a nice little surprise {november}

The morning after Halloween has Thomas’s stomach violently roaring and his head spinning.

He wakes up, feeling like he’d just been run over by four enormous trucks and tossed off the highway. He’s vaguely aware he’s in a very comfortable bed with the softest covers in the world wrapped over his body, but his mind is preoccupied by his sore throat and the shivers circulating his body.

After five minutes of moaning to himself about how much pain he’s in, he tries to sit up, before his vision blacks out.

After another five minutes, he finally sits up - seeing clearly - but feels extremely confused as to why he’s in _Newt’s_ bed.

And why Newt’s pajamas are trailed out from the bed to the door.

He frowns before he quickly checks under the covers - to make sure, _yes_ he is fully clothed in his Mets costume - and sighs, his aching head causing him grief.

It’s another ten minutes before Thomas even tries to emerge from the comfort of Newt’s bedroom into the light-filled kitchen.

He almost hisses at the open windows that are letting the sun pour in. “This is vile.”

“Morning!” Newt chirps from behind him, causing Thomas to jump. His stomach and head don’t appreciate the gesture. “Did I scare you?”

“You _startled_ me,” Thomas corrects him as he turns around. Newt’s in the kitchen, fully dressed in regular clothes, mixing food in a bowl. “What are you doing?”

“I think I’m making pancakes. They’re Minho’s favorites. Want to try one?” Newt offers, showing him a plate of food. 

Except Thomas doesn’t think he can classify the substances on that plastic plate as _food_. They’re charred at the edges and frighteningly pale in the middle. Newt’s cooking skills were never something to be envious of but they had also never made Thomas want to hurl more in his life.

When he returns from the bathroom, he’s relieved to find a cup of Earl Grey tea waiting for him. “Ah, thanks.”

“Here’s that medicine you refused last night.” Newt says, sliding him over two Tylenols. “You really should’ve taken them. You look like shit.”

“Thanks, again.”

“I mean it in the kindest way.” Newt says nicely as he flips over another “pancake” on the pan. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

The simple thought of having to actually eat one of Newt’s “pancakes” sends Thomas to the bathroom again.

When he returns, there are three more people in the kitchen than there were when he left.

“Am I still drunk?”

“Minho’s awake and so are these two. Harriet was sleeping on the sofa and Sonya just came in a minute ago.” Newt explains, the only person in the room not dying of a hangover.

“Morning,” The three of them mutter grimly.

Sonya’s long hair is pushed back into a messy bun and her make-up free face makes her look almost as young as her brother. Harriet doesn’t look much better; her beautiful curls are sticking up all around her head like a halo. Minho’s sprawled out on the countertop in a sweatshirt and boxers.

They’re in the most miserable of states, but it looks like a moment Thomas wants to savor for the rest of his life.

“You should eat something.” Newt tells them, holding up his plate.

Sonya’s lips curl as she frowns. “What the fuck is that?”

Newt looks proudly at his creation. “Pancakes. They’re Minho’s favorites.”

“I think Newt should win a Nobel Prize for creating toxic waste out of perfectly good ingredients.” Minho says bluntly, his eyes still shut.

“You can’t even see them.”

“Unfortunately, you haven’t ruined my sense of smell yet.”

Newt rolls his eyes and pushes the plate towards the girls. “You’ll try them, won’t you?”

Sonya shakes her head while holding her nose. Harriet has the decency to look apologetic. “Maybe we could order in?”

Newt shrugs and throws the pancakes out in the trash. “You all look like shit.”

A string of curses follow him down the hall as he disappears into his room.

Thomas stumbles over to the couch, where he flops down head-first, sending painful jolts through his brain. “I can’t remember a single thing from last night.”

Minho snorts. “You don’t remember trying to crowd surf in this living room?”

“Or having a shots competition with Sonya?” Harriet reminds them. “Thomas won, by the way.”

“What?” Sonya lifts up her head from the counter. “I call for a rematch. Immediately.”

“Over my dead body.”

“You’re practically dead right now. Come on, let’s settle this.”

“No more drinking for _you_ ever again,” Newt tells her, coming back into the kitchen with a bottle of pills. He hands two out to each of his friends before glaring at Sonya. “You were trying to sext Ben last night and nearly sent the pictures to our _parents_.”

Sonya’s face goes through a transformation of emotions before curling into one of disgust and panic. “I think I’m going to vomit.”

Harriet watches as she runs off to the bathroom. “I forget that she’s such a flirty drunk.”

“She’s not the only one,” Newt murmurs, in a voice soft but loud enough to travel across the room.

Thomas’s ears perk up.

Minho lifts his body off of the counter as if in a zombie trance. “I’m canceling Halloween next year. I’m never drinking again.”

Harriet and Newt snort. “You said that last year.”

“It’s true this year. I’m going to dump out all the bottles of illegal liquor we have in this apartment and go to Church tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow’s Monday.” Harriet tells him.

“I’m going to confess all my sins and ask for forgiveness.”

“Are you still drunk?” Newt asks, his voice laced with genuine concern.

Sonya drags her feet back into the kitchen space, looking over at Thomas’s motionless body on the couch. “Is Thomas actually dead?”

“No.” His voice comes out muffled from lying face down on the couch.

“He should be after that meltdown with Teresa.” Minho says and Thomas hears a chorus of sharp slaps accompanied by an, “Ow!”

He lifts his head and turns back to Minho. “What are you talking about?”

Everyone else turns their eyes away, but Minho stares him straight on. “What are _you_ talking about? Do you seriously not remember what happened?”

The tone of the room has turned too serious and grave for Thomas’s liking, who quickly sits up straight. His head doesn’t appreciate the sudden movements. “What happened?”

“Oh dear God, we didn’t realize you were _that_ drunk.” Sonya murmurs.

Thomas frowns, trying to recall any memory of Teresa the night before, but everything is black in his head. “Was she mad?”

“Mad is an understatement.” Harriet says quietly, sipping a cup of tea and not meeting his eyes.

Thomas stands up and crosses over to the island counter where the others are looking at him sympathetically, ignoring the incessant pounding in his head. “So what happened?”

“She came with Gally and you got upset over that.” Minho starts to explain.

“You _both_ said some things I’m sure were just out of anger.” Newt intervenes.

Thomas still feels confused, no shred of memory coming to him. “Okay. We fought a little. It’s not unusual. We used to scream at each other all the time but we’d be fine.”

Minho and Sonya exchange expressionless glances.

“Maybe not this time.” Harriet says, using that same quiet voice. Thomas understands that it’s supposed to be soothing and comforting, but Thomas only feels himself becoming more annoyed.

“We tried to talk to her after you almost called her a bitch,” Sonya says, causing Thomas to jump like a shock had just pierced his body. “You didn’t, don’t worry! We defended you, right Minho?”

Minho sighs heavily. “Yeah. We all did.”

“But uh, Thomas, we tried really hard to tell her you were just drunk and you were genuinely sorry,” Sonya’s voice falters as she rubs his arm. “But she doesn’t want to speak to you ever again.”

Somehow hearing it from Sonya Newton, with her doe brown eyes and a giddy demeanor - Sonya, who still believed in love and in the best of everyone, despite having seen the worst - makes his fight with Teresa seem _real_. 

Teresa doesn’t want to speak to him ever again. 

She doesn’t want to call him in the middle of the night when they’re both bored and lonely; or take spontaneous road trips to the Lake and blow bubbles while watching the sun set; or plan their study abroad trips together; or -

Thomas cuts himself off from thinking. “Oh.”

“You know,” Sonya says. “We were Team Thomas when it was you versus Gally.”

He lifts his head up, confusion dancing through his weary eyes.

“And we’ll be Team Thomas, even if it’s Teresa.” Sonya says a bit more confidently. “We’ll always be Team Thomas.”

Harriet and Newt nod their heads, the latter telling him, “Of course, mate.”

For the first time in a while, Thomas feels the bottom of his heart starting to thaw. A small smile spreads across his lips. “Thanks guys. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, because we don’t sound like a cult or anything,” Minho says, rather gruffly. He jumps off the island counter, as if his own head isn’t throbbing. “I need coffee.”

“Oh, me too.” Harriet says standing up.

“I’ll come. If we go to Java, Ben’s working his shift now.” Sonya tells them.

Harriet and Minho both look at each other. “That new coffee place up the street looks good.”

Sonya rolls her eyes before turning back to Thomas and Newt. “Are you coming?”

Newt makes a face. “I don’t like coffee. Or spending time with your boyfriend.”

Sonya rolls her eyes once more before using a softer tone with Thomas. “Thomas?”

He shrugs. “No, thanks.”

She looks at him sympathetically before the trio heads out the door, arguing like old married couples.

The two of them are quiet for a bit before they try to speak at the same time.

“I’m sorry -“

They look at each other before laughing. 

“What are you sorry about?” Newt asks him, in between chuckles.

“For taking over your bed last night. Or, at least I think that’s what happened.” Thomas explains, while remembering he was having trouble remembering everything. “I hope you didn’t have to sleep on the couch.”

Newt looks at him with amusement. “So you _really_ don’t recall anything?”

Thomas shrugs. “It’s like that Katy Perry song or something. A blacked out blur but I’m sure it ruled. Except for the part where Teresa now infinitely hates me.”

“You should remember this, Thomas, if anything.” Newt says, using his full name for once. “You were the one drunk out of your bloody mind. She wasn’t.”

Thomas expects to feel defensive of Teresa, ready to tell Newt that he was the one who initiated everything and he should be the one everyone was _against_.

But he hears her voice in his head - the clear, bell-like voice he’ll never in a million years forget - and sees her staring back at him, with those beautiful, _hurtful_ blue eyes and that cruel curl of her lip, _Yeah, that’s not what you were saying two weeks ago._

Thomas blinks, before shaking his head, positive he was imagining things. Although the defensive fire in him isn’t flaring anymore - it’s dying. 

He sighs solemnly, his heart still hurting but the pain in his head subsiding. “You’re right. You’re always right. Anyways, what were _you_ sorry about?”

Newt opens his mouth to say something, looking Thomas directly in the eye, before laughing it off. “Oh, nothing. I guess I was sorry about Teresa.”

Maybe one day in the future, when Thomas begins to question why the back of his neck is so sore, Newt will tell him he was really sorry about elbowing him while they were sleeping.

* * *

“Hey Thomas,” Brenda greets him, kissing him on the check as he enters her apartment a few days later. “I wasn’t expecting you over.”

He drops his textbooks on her table and plops down on her couch. “I have a huge International Economic Theory exam tomorrow and I was hoping I could study here? Newt and Minho’s apartment is too distracting.”

Brenda frowns. “They only have a couch and a TV in their living room. If that’s too distracting, I don’t think the Claude Monet portraits are good for you.”

Thomas turns around to see beautiful paintings decorating the beige walls. “Oh! I’ve never noticed those before.”

Brenda rolls her eyes with a smile. “Stay as long as you like. Actually - um, how long do you think you need to stay?”

Thomas snorts and starts to pick up his books. “I can take a hint. I’m very well aware Teresa doesn’t want to see or speak to me ever again. If she’s coming soon, I’ll just leave.”

“No!” Brenda urges him before sighing. “This whole thing is childish. You guys are _best_ friends. So what if you’re mad at each other now? It’ll all blow over.”

He’s not sure if Teresa’s told Brenda what _really_ caused their blowout, but he’s not about to. “Did she tell you about Halloween?”

Brenda sighs again and looks the other way. “Sort of.”

“Look, I was drunk out of my mind. I don’t remember a single thing that happened. Minho said she came with Gally. Is that true?”

He knows it’s true but he just needs to hear Brenda say it.

Brenda sighs loudly for the third time and says slowly, “Yes.”

“So you remember freshmen year, right?” Thomas reminds her without missing a beat. “This is the guy who’s hated me relentlessly and shoved me across a classroom because I accidentally spilled coffee on him. This is the same guy who nearly broke Newt’s jaw because he was trying to swing at _me_! Brenda, I’ve told Teresa endless times that I’m sorry. I’ve told her how much our friendship means to me and she doesn’t care. So I’m done.”

Brenda inhales a deep breath and says to him softly, “Yeah, but have you _showed_ her?”

He frowns and asks in a louder voice, “What?”

Brenda smacks her head before shaking it. “Never mind. Stay, Thomas, and study for your…”

“IET exam.” He supplies for her.

“Right! Right. Speaking of international stuff, have you talked to your advisor about Spain yet?”

Thomas sits down on the couch and doesn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t think I’m going to go.”

“What?” Brenda’s voice nearly raises an octave. “Why? You used to tell me all the time how excited you were to get a chance to study abroad there! You love the language, you love the culture, what changed?”

Thomas shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not ready.”

“Not ready?” Brenda’s shrill voice dances into his brain, causing Thomas to grimace. “What do you mean -“

He’s saved by the buzz of her phone.

Brenda rolls her eyes. “Ah. We’ll continue this in a second, but could you do me a _huge_ favor?”

“What?”

“Um, in my bathroom there’s a pair of, uh, tweezers.” Brenda says. Thomas frowns. “Could you get them?”

“Are you planning on tweezing my brain because I’m having second thoughts about Spain?”

Brenda looks like she’s beginning to consider the idea so Thomas quickly stands up and moves away. “I’ll get them but they come with conditions. No tweezing _me_.”

Brenda flicks her hand as she leans back into the couch. “Fine. Thanks for getting them!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your bathroom is the door directly down the hall, right?”

Brenda’s eyes widen from behind him as she shouts out, “Wait, Thomas, wrong -“

Thomas opens the door, in the midst of her protest, to find a shell-shocked Teresa and overly amused Gally standing behind the door. Thankfully Gally is fully clothed, while Thomas practically comes face to face with Teresa’s lacy black bra and dropped jaw.

His former best friend is clutching her cell phone, which Thomas automatically presumes was Brenda’s cue to get him out of the way so Teresa could ship Gally out of here before Thomas could notice.

Teresa slowly recollects herself. “So, you’re, uh, not thinking about Spain anymore?”

Thomas doesn’t recognize he’s staring at them, jaw-dropped, until he tries to speak and realizes words aren’t working for him. 

So instead, he turns back on his heel and goes back to into Brenda’s living room before leaving, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the tweezers.”

* * *

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so sad,” Harriet comments the next day in their Humanities class.

Thomas’s head is propped on top of his crossed arms on his desk, his eyes are cast downwards at Harriet’s blindingly white sneakers, and he keeps sighing through his pouted lips.

“I have no idea what would give you that impression.”

Harriet pats the top of his head. “You look like someone ran over your cat.”

“I don’t even like cats.”

“Yes you do!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Yes.”

“No!” Harriet exclaims before pausing and then rolling her eyes. “Fine, you win.”

He barely cracks a smile.

“Is this about Teresa?”

He sighs loudly, moaning in misery. 

“Okay, we’ll not talk about her right now. Where’s Newt?”

Thomas wants to throw his textbooks across the room as a protest of his unhappiness. The _least_ fate could do for him right now is make Newt appear for class but it feels like every force of nature is against him.

The professor starts the class and Harriet turns around after giving Thomas a sympathetic look.

Five minutes later, the familiar blond boy bursts through the door, carrying a tiny brown paper bag and a white styrofoam cup. He smiles apologetically at the teacher before limping his way over to Thomas and Harriet’s desks.

Thomas frowns. “What happened to you?”

“I was late getting these for you. You're welcome, by the way.” 

Thomas sighs heavenly, smelling the beautiful aroma of melting chocolate chip cookies and black coffee. He leans his head on the other boy’s shoulder, without thinking, and the tiniest of smiles begins to cross over his face.

“Thanks, Newt.”

He can’t see Newt start to blush but Harriet sure can.

And after having almost dated the Peter Pan counterpart for the better part of six months, she knows how much it takes to get him to blush. 

She turns back around, with the same curious stare Minho had so many months ago, close to this time freshmen year.

“But I meant about your leg.” Thomas asks, lifting his head up and taking a sip of the coffee. “I always forget to ask you because some days you walk fine, and others you’re limping as if you have a broken ankle.”

Newt looks a bit sheepish and looks upwards towards the second star to the right. “You’ll laugh at me.”

“Not after you went out of your way to buy me coffee and a cookie.”

Still, Newt hesitates before beginning, “When Sonya and I first got accepted to University, I panicked. I felt that it was just yesterday we were throwing mud at each other and wrestling each other. I was a bit drunk and I went up to the roof of our home, and I, uh,”

Newt’s voice trails off but Thomas is finding the story more interesting than their Humanities professor droning on what it means to be a human. “And you what?”

Newt sighs. “And I tried to fly off of our roof.”

Thomas’s eyes widen. “What? Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine -“

“Newt, you can talk to _me_ , you know. I’ll help you find someone to talk to -“

Ironically, it’s Newt who starts laughing. “No! No, Tommy, I’m _much_ better now. It was just around the time Sonya and I found out we weren’t twins and it seemed like the world was against me.”

Thomas doesn’t feel or look any more convinced.

“Promise me you won’t make a big deal out of this, okay? It’s just a leg that will always be sore from time to time. It’s the only thing that’s not fully healed, I promise.”

Thomas still doesn’t feel convinced. “Promise? That’s an easy thing to break, you know.”

Newt shrugs and a little smirk materializes on his face. “Not for everyone.”

* * *

Just like Halloween, Thanksgiving rolls around the corner as if time was on steroids. Thomas feels like his life is speeding in front of him and he’s unable to stop and just enjoy the moments before they pass him by.

“Thomas, wake up.” His mother nudges him Thanksgiving morning. “It’s almost noon, Thomas, wake up.”

Thomas has no desire to open his eyes. It’s the first Thanksgiving he’s going to celebrate without Teresa and it doesn’t feel worth celebrating.

“Teresa stopped by before her family left and she wanted to me to give you this.”

His eyes shoot open and he’s out of his bed in record timing. “What is it?”

“Open it.” Claire says with a small smile before leaving his bedroom.

It’s a small wrapped box, with a tiny ribbon on top. He unwraps the present slowly and finds a folded letter inside.

_Tom,_

_Your real birthday present._

_~ T._

It’s a signed baseball, from the game that got the Mets into the World Series this summer, the one Thomas had been eyeing on eBay but someone else had got to it first.

For the second time in a while, his heart feels a little bit warmer than it used to and he picks up his phone to call her.

And while he thinks his call never reaches her because his number is still blocked on her cell phone, Teresa is on an early morning flight leaving the United States with her head pressed against the window.

* * *

“I’m so happy you guys could come over!” Claire says excitedly as Newt, Sonya, Minho, Harriet, and her boyfriend, Tommy, surround the table. “Normally, Teresa and her family spend Thanksgiving with us but they’re in Brazil this year.”

Thomas can tell they tried not to, but in perfect synchronization the four of them all turn to him at the head of the table.

“It’s certainly out of the blue.” Thomas mutters, scooping up some of the mashed potatoes.

“Thank you again, Claire, for inviting us on such short notice.” Sonya says sweetly. 

“Hey Tommy, can you pass me the salt?” Newt asks as he shoves peas onto his plate.

“Sure.” Thomas and Tommy say at the same time, reaching for the salt shakers on opposite ends of the table.

They both freeze mid-way.

Newt looks back and forth between them. “Well, that’s going to get bloody confusing.”

Sonya rolls her eyes next to him. “Tommy is Officer Tommy. Thomas is our Thomas.”

From across the table, Minho turns to Officer Tommy. “Do you get to carry a gun at all times?”

Harriet gasps and smacks his shoulder next to him. “Minho! You can’t just ask people if they carry a gun on them at all times.”

Sonya laughs. “Ha! Mean Girls. Classic.”

“You are mean girls.” Newt tells her.

“No, you blithering twit. Mean Girls is that Lindsey Lohan and Rachel McAdams movie. Remember mum and I used to watch it all the time with the Bennets?”

“No, you blithering twit, I probably blocked it out my mind.”

To his relief, Thomas sees his mother and Tommy chuckling at the opposite end of the table.

“It’s a fair question to ask, Harriet.” Minho continues. “What if I want to be a police officer when I grow up?”

“You are grown up. You’re also a business major.”

“I should’ve been a business major.” Newt says nostalgically.

“You can’t change your major four times!” The other four tell him in unison.

Newt rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Can someone please pass me the salt?”

“What are all of your majors?” Officer Tommy asks.

“Fashion merchandising.” Sonya says at the same time, Minho declares, “Business management,” at the same time Harriet responds, “Nursing on a pre-med tract,” at the same time Newt tells him, “I think British and American literature.”

“Economics,” Thomas chimes in once they’ve thoroughly managed to confuse poor Officer Tommy.

The conversation goes like that for a while - Officer Tommy or Claire asking the group a question, all five of them answering at once until one of them got the group to answer in an orderly fashion until someone got snarky and set off an insult competition until someone (usually Thomas) got them under control again.

“It’s a perfectly fair career choice!” Newt snaps at Sonya. The latest conversation round had been started by Claire, who’d asked what they all wished to be once they finished college. After everyone answered at once and Harriet settled them down, Newt informed the group he was going to be a writer. 

Sonya threw her head back and cackled, “You couldn’t be a writer.”

“I agree with the little blondie on this,” Minho intervenes. “You can’t focus long enough to write a book.”

“Yeah but he could like write all the characters and shi- stuff, sorry, and then someone else writes the actual story.” Harriet supplies.

“But then he wouldn’t really be a writer,” Thomas points out. “You could be a book critic.”

“He’d be too harsh about it.” Sonya says dismissively. “He should just have stuck with his second major choice, Computer Science. There’s a valuable career.”

“Yeah but he sucked at it.” Minho reminds her.

Newt huffs. “You suck at giving advice.”

“Not my fault you suck at Computer Science.”

“It’s not my fault you suck at tutoring.”

“Shhh,” Thomas waves his hand around him, leaning back into his chair, perfectly full and content. “I think it’s time for dessert.”

His mother and Officer Tommy look more than pleased to jump out of their chairs and collect the empty plates.

In the midst of everyone moving, Sonya gets up from her chair and beckons to Thomas. “Come with me for a minute. Let’s pick out a movie.”

Thomas follows her into the living room separated from the kitchen by a white door. He pulls out the basket by the futon with all the DVDs inside and pulls one out, “How about White Chicks? Everyone loves White Chicks.”

“Mhm,” Sonya murmurs from behind him absentmindedly.

He turns around to see her furiously texting and rolls his eyes, turning back to the DVDs. “Okay, how about Texas Chainsaw Massacre?”

“Sounds great.”

“Sonya!” He complains, turning back to her.

She looks up from her phone. “Sorry?”

“You _hate_ Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

“I know.”

“Are you even paying attention to me?” He asks, standing up.

She looks at him apologetically and then out the window. “Ben’s outside.”

“What?”

“I have to go, okay? I have to talk to him about something.” Sonya starts to explain, grabbing Thomas’s hands. “It’s important and I need you to cover for me.”

“I’m not going to -“

“Remember when I told you I thought Ben and I were having problems?” She asks, her doe brown eyes wide and pleading. “Well I - I think I figured to fix them.”

“How?”

“Trust me, Thomas. It’s the only way,” Sonya tells him, looking over her shoulders. “The others are going to be mad at me for leaving.”

“Well, yeah. It’s our Friends-giving.” Thomas reminds her, a bit childishly. “It was supposed to be a good time.”

“And it will be a good time!” Sonya says if she was indeed talking to a child. “I’ll just be gone for a little over an hour, okay? I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.”

_I’ll be back before you know it, Greenie. I promise._

“My dad promised me that too, once.” 

Sonya’s eyes widen and it looks like tears are pooling up in her eyes so he hugs her and whispers, “I’ll tell them you went out to find Mean Girls.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders and exclaims, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

She pulls away and quickly kisses him on the cheek before staring at him as if she has something more to say. She shakes her head instead and bounces to the door.

“Don’t get pregnant,” He tells her as an after-thought.

Sonya rolls her eyes. “Okay, _mom_.”

She closes the door behind her and some moments later, Newt, Harriet, and Minho come into the room.

“Have you picked a movie?” Newt asks as they all plop down on the couch.

“Ah, no. Sonya’s going to go rent one.”

They all look up at him with raised eyebrows.

“ _Rent_ one?” Harriet repeats. “You are aware there is such a thing as Netflix?”

“The movie she wants isn’t on Netflix.”

“What is it?” Minho challenges him.

Thomas blanks for a moment but Newt rolls his eyes. “Was it Mean Girls? She’s bloody obsessed.”

“Yes!” Thomas exclaims. “She’s so bloody obsessed with Mean Girls she went out to go rent it.”

Harriet shakes her head. “Of course.”

Minho snorts. "I'm not even surprised."

If Thomas was asked what he was thankful for on this day, he would say he's thankful his friends could be naive at just right the moments but acutely perceptive when he needed them to be.

In fact, he would just say he's grateful for his friends.

_All_ of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did manage to get it up by Monday night! I wasn't sure if that was going to work out but I'm pretty okay with the way this chapter turned out :)  
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me and having patience with my story! We're in the climax part so things will be winding down after the next chapter or so. Thank you again for all your comments! They truly inspire me :)


	13. Wake Me Up When December Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho rolls his eyes. “Of course he is. Besides, when you two finally start hooking up, you two can just share his room.”
> 
> Thomas starts to violently choke, fizzy water exploding out of his nose, leaving a burning sensation in his nostrils. His throat contracts rather painfully and he’s ten seconds away from coughing up a lung.
> 
> “Jesus, Thomas, don’t die.”
> 
> or where thomas makes a big decision and two very startling and life changing declarations are made on their fake Christmas. {december}

In the days after Thanksgiving as it turns into December, Thomas starts to feel attacked by Christmas. 

Christmas music blares through every station on the radio on his way up to the Glade, Christmas lights are decorating every house in his neighborhood, and every store downtown and at the mall are advertising their Christmas specials. It’s the last straw when Thomas bursts into Minho’s apartment, to find the boy fully dressed up in a red Santa Clause fat suit and costume, complete with combat boots and a pearl white beard.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Minho spins around, almost unsuccessfully tumbling over his new gut. “I’m getting paid $450 bucks to stand outside the mall for three hours in this get up. How great am I?”

“I want $450 dollars,” Thomas says stubbornly, frowning. “I want a job.”

“What about that coffee shop up the street?” Minho suggests, struggling to tie his boots over his gigantic stomach. “They’re hiring.”

Thomas sighs as he takes a can of seltzer water from the refrigerator. “Yeah but it’s a 45 minute drive from my house. In between my time here, at the Glade, and there, I would barely ever be home.”

“What’s the problem with that?”

Thomas is about to protest, when he realizes there isn't anything to protest _about_. He’s 20 years old, still living with his mother, because two years ago he hated the thought of leaving her alone when he would only be 40 minutes away.

“Your mom has a boyfriend now,” Minho reminds him, taking the thoughts right out of his head. “It’s not selfish to want your own space.”

Thomas plops down next to him. “I don’t have a job. I couldn’t afford a one bedroom, much less a cardboard box.”

Minho thumps him in the back of the head.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re an idiot. Remember when Newt and I offered for you to stay with us? The offer still stands.”

Thomas looks at him in surprise. "Seriously? That was when you guys were looking at three bedrooms. Are you sure?”

“You’re always here anyways. The couch is basically yours.” Minho shrugs. “And when you actually do get that job at the coffee shop, the rent’s going to be a lot cheaper.”

“You know what? That’d actually be a great idea. It’d save me a lot of gas too. Are you sure Newt’s okay with it?” Thomas asks, mulling over the idea as he takes a sip of his seltzer.

Minho rolls his eyes. “Of course he is. Besides, when you two finally start hooking up, you two can just share his room.”

Thomas starts to violently choke, fizzy water exploding out of his nose, leaving a burning sensation in his nostrils. His throat contracts rather painfully and he’s ten seconds away from coughing up a lung.

“Jesus, Thomas, don’t die.” Minho says, clapping his back, unintentionally making the pain even more unbearable.

Three minutes later, when Thomas has finally stopped choking and Minho’s gotten him a warm glass of regular water, Thomas turns to him in surprise, “What are you talking about?”

“It’s obvious you like him.” Minho says nonchalantly. 

“That’s not true.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why you’re not going to Spain anymore. You always smile more and laugh harder when he’s around. He’s the only person you look for during our track competitions,” Minho lists the reasons off of his fingers. “This is not a new discovery, you know.”

Thomas frowns, almost losing his composure. He shakes his head and stands up, “I’m sure you’re just reading this all wrong.”

Minho looks at him in disbelief. “You just almost died when I implied it -“

“Graphically.”

“- Thomas, it’s cool. The important thing is that -“

“You can’t tell him,” Thomas cuts him off, in a panicked voice. 

Minho looks at him in shock. “Of course I’m not going to tell him. But I think you should.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“It’s close to Christmas, it’s his favorite holiday. It’s the perfect time,” Minho tries to persuade him.

“Yeah but if he doesn’t feel the same way, then everything changes and I can’t be around him anymore.” Thomas points out in a frazzled manner.

Minho inhales through his nose, fighting a pained expression. “Thomas, I _really_ don’t think that’s your biggest worry.”

“But it  _is_  because it's happening with me and Teresa _right now_.” Thomas complains, falling back onto the couch. “I just - I can’t deal with all of this, at this moment in time. I need more time.”

Newt comes through the door then, holding a paper bag full of groceries close to his chest. “I got 100 new plastic plates and a new box of plastic utensils. I also got paper cups, but we’ll have to be a bit conservative with them. There’s only 20.”

“Hey, guess what.” Minho stands up, looking at Thomas carefully. “Thomas finally agreed to live with us.”

Newt’s entire face brightens up and he drops the bag of groceries at his feet. “That’s great, Tommy!”

Newt rushes to Thomas, wrapping him in a tight hug, causing the latter to break out into a laugh - and Minho to smack his head into his palm.

* * *

“I’m still mad at you.”

“Are you seriously still mad about Spain?” Thomas asks in exasperation. “Brenda, it’s _my_ decision. How can this possibly be affecting you?”

She sighs, rolling her eyes. “Well, will you at least just tell me why?”

About a week after Thomas has decided to move, he’s walking with Brenda downtown towards the mall, where local employees have already begun to string lights outside their stores, to start Christmas shopping. He had tried to avoid the topic of Spain and studying abroad at all costs but Brenda had kept a cold demeanor towards him until he had asked what was wrong.

Thomas shrugs in response. “I just don’t feel like it’s the right time.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“ _Whoa_ there,”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Brenda tells him sternly as they stop before a crosswalk. “Is it because of Teresa?”

Thomas rolls his eyes and groans. “No. And honestly, Bren, it’s not a big deal, so would you just drop it?”

She sighs dramatically. “Fine. But I’m still mad at you.”

“How are _you_ doing?” He asks as they walk into the mall. “Are you still planning on applying for grad school soon?”

“Ha, smooth. And I’ve already finished my applications for Columbia and NYU. I’m still debating on even thinking about Harvard.”

“Of _course_ you should think about Harvard -“ He starts to say before Brenda cuts him off.

“We need to go inside Macy’s real quick.”

Twenty minutes later, they emerge with a bottle of expensive perfume for Teresa (from Brenda), jewelry for their mothers, and a silk blouse for Brenda’s best friend from high school.

“You’re crazy smart and you have the most impressive resume, _of course_ , you should apply to Harvard.”

Brenda sighs. “I’m not guaranteed for financial aid. And everyone wants to be a lawyer at Harvard so they’re definitely not going to give me special consideration.”

“That doesn't mean you shouldn’t try,” Thomas tries to convince her. “I bet you stand out from 2/3 of all the kids applying.”

“Let’s head in to H&M.”

“We’re shopping for Christmas presents, not for you.”

“Ugh. I think I have a better chance at Columbia, though. I really like New York.”

“Can we stop inside Ikea?”

Inside Ikea, Thomas finds Newt and Minho proper utensils, cups, and plates.

“Hey, I heard a little rumor that you’re planning on becoming their roommate.” Brenda mentions as they’re leaving the store.

“I am.”

“In that case, would you mind if I asked Teresa to move in with me?”

Thomas turns to her in confusion. “Aren’t you already living with two other people?”

“My friend's, Abby, planning on moving out after the holidays. She and her boyfriend have become quite serious.”

It shouldn’t bother Thomas, but it does. Deep, deep, down in his heart it does bother him that Brenda is being Teresa’s friend when he can’t. That Brenda is becoming Teresa’s new best friend -

He forces himself to shake the thoughts out of his head. “Why would it bother me?”

“Because I know that you miss her. And that she misses you, too. Do you remember what I told you last month, before you accidentally walked in on her and Gally?”

The memory sends an uncomfortable shiver up Thomas’s spine but he hears her words clearly in his head.

_“Brenda, I’ve told Teresa endless times that I’m sorry. I’ve told her how much our friendship means to me and she doesn’t care. So I’m done.”_

_“Yeah, but have you showed her?”_

He looks up, taking in the store in front of him. “I want to say you did this on purpose.”

Brenda turns to him with a smirk. “This is on you, Thomas. Your choice.”

“Sophie’s choice.”

“I’m not forcing you to do anything. We just merely happened to walk this way -“

“Right in front of Tiffany’s, Teresa’s favorite jewelry store that happens to have the most expensive jewelry in the world.”

“We should probably go,” Brenda says, starting to walk forward.

“Wait,” Thomas calls out, before sighing. “Will you come inside with me real quick?”

* * *

December 20th, the day before everyone but Thomas is set to leave for the month long holiday break, is the day they have their own little Christmas.

Thomas is helping Minho set up the fake Christmas tree, while Newt is unsuccessfully trying to wrap presents.

“Why on Earth did we leave the girls in charge of alcohol?” Minho complains, turning back to the kitchen clock. “They’re almost an hour late.”

“Harriet’s the only one who’s 21 and doesn’t have to use a fake I.D,” Thomas reminds him, as he helps Newt put presents under the tree.

“Can we call them again?”

“We called them two minutes ago,” Newt says tiredly. “And they still haven’t returned our ten other messages.”

“It’s almost 9:00! What the hell could they be doing?”

“Last minute Christmas shopping.” Thomas suggests.

“Last minute packing.” Newt adds.

“Last minute cleaning?”

“Nice one. Last minute cooking?”

“Oh, that’s even better! How about last minute -“

“You two disgust me.” Minho announces dramatically before storming off towards his room. “I’m going to start packing. If they don’t get here by the time I finish, we’re starting off without them.”

“Well, that’s not very holiday like, is it?” Newt asks under his voice.

Thomas becomes quite aware of how close they’re standing and how low and soft Newt’s voice had become. He steps back, so that they’re standing face to face at least a foot apart. “Should we - should we help him?”

Newt frowns, that endearing crinkle of his eyebrows. “Help Minho pack? That’s as successful as getting Sonya to stop talking about Ben. Speaking of which,” He turns on his heel, back towards the kitchen, “I swear if she’s with him right now, I will kill her.”

Newt picks up his cell phone and dials furiously. He puts the phone to his ear and his left hand on his hip, and begins to pace around the small kitchen space.

Thomas starts to notice the little things about him, the way his hair lays perfectly on his head and how it seems to be darker than it was during the summer. And how tiny but strong his fingers are, tapping rhythmically on his equally tiny hips -

Thomas realizes his head is cocked to the side as he unsubtly checks Newt out and he smacks himself hard, turning towards the window.

Newt turns around in surprise. “Are you okay?”

Thomas almost says no, but tries to save himself in time, “N- Yeah, hopefully.”

Newt looks at him curiously before shoving his phone into his pocket. “She didn’t pick up and I’m starting to get a little worried. Do you think she’s alright?”

Something catches Thomas’s eye out of the window. “Actually, I think that’s her and Harriet coming in right -“

The door bursts open, Sonya and Harriet rushing through with flushed faces. Sonya’s hair is wildly pulled back into a ponytail and she’s wearing pajamas, unlike Harriet, whose hair is neatly curled and is dressed in a festive red blouse and black skirt.

“I’m pregnant.”

Harriet throws her free hand up in the air and sighs. “So I guess we’re not breaking the news to them over wine.”

“- now.” Thomas finishes his earlier sentence uselessly, drawing the word out.

“Is that them?” Minho calls from his room before coming into the living room. “Thank God, what took you so long?”

Sonya and Newt are too busy staring at each other in horror to hear Minho.

Harriet holds up a paper bag. “Well, I went out to go get the wine and stuff, when Sonya called me in a panic. She, uh, she asked me to pick her up something.”

“What?” Minho asks, not having heard the startling declaration.

Harriet turns to Sonya, and lets loose a long breath. “Well, Sonya,”

“I asked her to pick me up a pregnancy test.” The blonde says in a quiet voice, now avoiding the eyes of her brother. “And it came out positive.”

“Did you try more than one?” Thomas asks gently, while Minho begins to look faint behind him and exclaims, _“_ It came out _what_?!”

“I tried five of them, Thomas.” Sonya says, turning to him and grasping for his hands. “4 out of 5 came out positive and I don’t know what to do -“

“Have you told Ben yet?” Thomas asks her calmly. 

Minho’s voice instead comes out in a shrill yell. “How on earth are you pregnant?” 

Harriet rolls her eyes. “Minho, when two people love each other very much -“

“ _Harriet!”_

“Do you think this is easy for me?” Harriet shouts back at him. “My best friend is pregnant!”

Sonya turns to her in disbelief. “Easy for you? What about me? I have a _child_ growing in my stomach!”

She turns back to Thomas, looking pleadingly into his eyes. “What am I supposed to do? I’m only twenty, I can’t have a _child_.”

“You’re damn right you can’t have a child.” Newt speaks up for the first time, causing the others to all turn to him. “We’re not American, Sonya, we don’t have American health care or access to American doctors -“

“Newt, I _know_ that!” Sonya exclaims, her voice coming out crackled. She blinks rapidly. “Okay, I never _meant_ to get pregnant. This wasn’t my plan.”

“You have heard of a condom, haven’t you?” 

“Oh, shut up -“

“I’m serious, Sonya! You couldn’t have been _that_ stupid not to wear one.”

“Don’t call me stupid, you arsehole, it’s not going to fix this!”

“We wouldn’t have a situation that needed to be fixed if you hadn’t been stupid enough not to use protection -“

“I _did_ use protection, sometimes it just doesn’t work!”

“Sonya, that’s a load of rubbish -“

Suddenly, the yelling is becoming too much for Thomas and his ears are starting to buzz. He blinks as memories of his parents screaming at each other come into focus but puts his hand to Newt’s chest, whispering softly, “Hey, hey, Newt, we’re all scared. Okay? This is - this is not, this is not ideal, you know? But that doesn’t mean you’re alone in your fear.”

Newt inhales an angry breath. “Thomas, you don’t -“

“I know that it doesn’t seem like I understand because I’m not her brother and I don’t _have_ to worry about the health care problem and telling your parents. But I promise that doesn’t mean we’re going to abandon you two. We _all_ are going to be in this together. You’re not alone.”

Newt opens his mouth as if to protest further but closes it again. He opens it like he’s gained momentum and is ready to keep arguing but then he closes it once more. He repeats this a few more times before finally sitting down on the couch and staring blankly at the door. “Bloody hell, my sister’s pregnant. Am I hallucinating?”

Thomas sits down next to him. “No.”

“Am I dying?”

“Uh, no.”

“I think I am,” Sonya says absentmindedly, staring at the scene in front of her. Unbeknownst to the two on the couch, she intently watches Thomas pat Newt’s back and calmly telling the panicked blond that this is not the end of the world. 

She turns to Minho and Harriet, who are staring at her expectantly. “Oh my God, you’re right.”

* * *

The night doesn’t exactly go as planned.

Instead of sitting in front of the fake Christmas tree, listening to beautiful Christmas music, opening presents, and getting drunk off of expensive wine - Minho, Harriet, and Thomas are crowded around Minho’s computer, searching the logistics of a British citizen having a baby in America.

“Wait gross, a man had a baby?” Minho asks, becoming distracted, and trying to click on the link “ _Man Becomes First in the UK to give birth to baby”_.

Harriet swats his hand away. “Focus, Minho.”

“And don’t look at the link right below it,” Thomas says, cringing. 

“British couple stranded in New York with premature baby,” Minho reads out loud, his eyes bulging as he reads the description. “They had to pay _$200,000_ -“

Harriet and Thomas both smack Minho’s arm, causing the latter to protest in pain.

Sonya lifts her head up from the couch. “What?”

“Nothing.” They all mutter, turning back to the computer.

“I should talk to Newt.” Sonya says, standing up.

Newt had disappeared into his bedroom twenty minutes ago, with a bottle of wine. They all turn to Newt’s closed door.

“I think he should be alone right now,” Thomas says, his eyes still on the door.

Sonya huffs. “What about _me_? I don’t want to be alone, I want my brother to tell me it’s going to be okay and our parents aren't going to kill me!”

Minho turns to her, looking her gravely in the eye. “It’s going to be okay and Mom and Dad won’t kill you.”

Sonya rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. “Minho, that’s not funny.”

He stands, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m being serious, blondie. Your mom and dad are not going to kill you. Like Thomas said earlier, you guys aren’t alone. We’re here to help all the live long way.”

Her angry looks disintegrates and her lip begins to quiver. “Yeah but I messed up! I messed up really bad this time and,”

“Hey, hey, shh,” Minho tells her, opening out his arms so Sonya could press her tear-stained face to his shoulder. “We all make mistakes. And we’re all going to get through this together.”

Sonya hiccups. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Thomas shudders, as if he’d stuck his finger into an electrical outlet. “Oh my God.”

Harriet frowns. “What?”

_She’s who Minho likes. That has_ _got_ _to be it,_ Thomas thinks to himself. _That’s why he won’t tell anyone, even_ _Newt_ _, his best friend. He likes Sonya_!

He turns to Harriet, ready to tell her the news before he remembers Minho making him swear he wouldn’t tell anyone. “Has, uh, has Sonya told Ben yet?”

Harriet sighs. “She wanted to tell Newt first. She was really scared and wanted him to know first.”

Thomas turns his head back to Newt’s closed door. “I’m going to talk to him.”

Harriet’s jaw drops and she looks at him in disbelief. “Didn’t you _just_ say he should be alone?”

Thomas tries to protest. “I mean, yeah, but -“

“Thomas.” Harriet snaps her fingers in front of his face, causing him to turn his attention to her. “If anything, _Sonya_ , his _pregnant sister_ , should be the one to talk to him.”

Thomas knows that he has to be the one to talk to Newt right now but he can’t exactly find the right words to explain it. “Look Harriet, I just have to talk to him.”

“Why?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest and raising her eyebrow.

“Because,” Thomas drags the word out for a bit, before snapping his fingers. “Let me try to calm him down first. Before Sonya goes in.”

“What makes you think _you_ can calm him down?”

He opens his mouth to probably stutter something wise like, _Uh I don’t know_ , before he sees the look in her eyes. Her head’s cocked to the side and her eyebrows are raised, her fingers tapping her arm. She has an expectant expression etched on her face and Thomas realizes she _knows_.

She’s just trying to force an answer out of him.

“Because I’ve done it before,” He says a little hotly, “and Minho’s comforting Sonya right now and you’d be better fitted to comfort your best friend than your ex-boyfriend.”

Harriet looks surprised at the little jab and rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine.”

He lets out a quick, “thank you!”, before moving past her and into Newt’s room.

The room is dark and the window is wide open, the curtains swaying with the wind. Thomas pops his head out the window and calls out, “Newt?”

The blond abruptly jumps out of the dark causing Thomas to bang his head against the window. “Did I scare you?”

Thomas tries to refrain from cursing, as pain temporarily clouds his vision. “Motherf- what the hell are you doing out here?”

“Drinking.” Newt tells him innocently, holding up two bottles. 

Thomas frowns, for a minute thinking he’s seeing two bottles of wine. He blinks twice before realizing he’s not hallucinating. “I thought you only took one bottle.”

“That’s what _you_ thought.” Newt says, slightly swaying.

“Oh dear Jesus,” Thomas mutters. “How the hell did you get out of here?”

“I slid. As if I were on a slide. I used to love slides. Hey, do you want to go to that park and go on the really big slide?”

Thomas stares at the window unconvincingly. “Did you hurt yourself trying to get out here?”

“No.”

Thomas curses again, before reaching up to grab the top of the window sill and hoisting the lower half of his body up. “Watch out, Newt.”

Newt laughs as Thomas roughly pushes his body out through the window, landing ungracefully on his ass. “I take it you’re not very much of a gymnast.”

“Ha ha.” Thomas says sarcastically, leaning back against the side of the house. “It’s a good thing this place is a one story.”

Newt leans his head back, taking a swig of one of the bottles.

Thomas carefully takes the now empty bottle away when he’s finished. “So how are you?”

“Peachy.”

Thomas stares at him expectantly. “You do remember what happened earlier, don’t you?”

Newt nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“Your sister’s -“

“Pregnant.” Newt finishes for him. 

“Right.” Thomas says, still watching him carefully. “And how do you feel about that?”

“I think I’m really upset.” Newt responds casually, nodding his head.

“Well, that’s -“

“And I also think,” Newt cuts him off, turning his body to face Thomas, “that I’m twenty years old and my twenty year old sister is pregnant. As in, she has a kid growing inside of her stomach.”

“Not right now,” Thomas tries to say uselessly but it’s as if Newt doesn’t even hear him. Despite the fact that they’re sitting down, Newt's starting to have trouble balancing himself, tell-tale signs to Thomas that he's past buzzed and has reached drunk. 

_ But he's never looked more present than he does right in this moment. _

“I can’t be a kid anymore, Tommy.” He tells him, his Pinot Noir scented breath dancing in front of Thomas. “I’m twenty years old and my twenty year old sister is going to have a baby. If that’s not a reality check to grow up, then I don’t know what is.”

Thomas nods his head in a support. “Okay, well some good things have come out of this night -“

“But I do know this,” Newt continues, as if Thomas hasn’t spoken at all, with eyes intensely trained on Thomas. “I know what I want now. I don’t want some boring desk job for nine hours a day to come home to a stiff flat in the middle of Kent. I want something exciting, something that takes me all over the world. I don’t want to go back home after next year, because I want a new home. Here.”

About a month ago, Thomas had this dream where life was less complicated and his feelings for Newt were something he could understand and handle. He’d dreamed that Newt had been inching closer to him, sort of like he is now, but he, himself, was reciprocating the actions. Teresa wasn't mad at him, in this dream, because they were friends like they'd always been. He was president of the World Bank, successful and wiser.

And happier because an older and wiser Newt, who was serious, was learning towards him, like the younger, childish one is doing right now, b ut it was in the future - the big, scary future that Newt is painting out for him. The future that Thomas refuses to believe is coming, regardless of whether or not he accepts it.

He doesn’t realize that his body is leaning back, away from Newt. “Really?”

“With you.” Newt finishes, his eyes still locked with Thomas’s. “That’s all I want.”

Thomas is now wishing he had never let Newt take a bottle - apparently, _two_ \- of wine and leave his sight. “Hey, you’re drunk, and it’s cold outside -“

“You want this too,” Newt tells him, quickly standing up, and nearly falling backwards in the act. Thomas rushes up, without thinking, to help balance but Newt grabs his arms. “Don’t you? That’s why you’re not going to Spain.”

Thomas stutters, his own head starting to spin as if he were drunk, “I - I don’t know, I’m not - I don’t think I need to,”

“And that’s why during Spring Break you didn’t want to go down to the pool.”

Thomas scratches the back of his neck. “I could barely focus enough to stand up.”

“I’m not talking about Miami.”

Punta Cana flashes back in his head, when Newt came to his room, asking to borrow Thomas’s waterproof watch. Thomas told him he wasn’t in the mood to go to the pool that night because he’d had a slight headache and Newt had offered to stay with him and watch Netflix. 

Thomas didn't remember much after they’d finished the six pack of beer.

“Newt, you’re drunk,” He says softly. “You’re not going to remember this in the morning.”

“But I’ll still feel the same way,” Newt tells him, holding Thomas’s hands. “I want you.”

“You want me _now_ ,” Thomas tries to convince him. “While you’re _drunk_.”

“I _like_ you, Tommy. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t sure you felt the same way -“

Newt cuts himself off, abruptly snatching his hands away.

Thomas frowns, his hands feeling the lack of warmth. “Newt?”

Newt turns away for a moment before facing Thomas once more, a curious stare glazed over his eyes. “ _I’m_ telling you this.”

Thomas’s frown deepens. “Yes?”

“ _I’m_ telling you this. _I’m_ initiating this - I’m always initiating this. It's never you.”

“I’m confused -“

“So am I, Thomas.” Newt tells him, his voice slurred as he runs his fingers through his hair. He reaches for the second bottle. “What do _you_ want?”

Thomas tries to pull the bottle away from him, but Newt swats his hand away. 

_I want this_ , he thinks to himself, _but I don’t want this while you’re drunk or while you’re still trying to find your way to Neverland. I want this after we’ve gotten out of the Glade and have made it to Paradise, when you're serious enough to really want this._

His brain shuts down and the only thing he can say is, “I want Teresa to stop hating me.”

Newt’s eyes widen and he takes a step back, his famous frown crossing over his face with a look of poorly veiled disbelief and disappointment. “That’s it? That’s all you want?”

_No._ “I don’t know.”

“Thomas -“

“Why do we have to do this now?” He asks, pools of anxiety rolling in his stomach. “Why can’t we talk about this another time?”

Now, Newt’s frown deepens. “What’s wrong with right now?”

“Because,” Thomas says shakily, completely out of character and really wishing he had the wine. “Because I’m _scared_. I’m scared that you like me right now but then you’ll get over it. I'm scared that Teresa will _never_ forgive me.”

Newt looks at him funny. “That’s not something you should worry about or you can control.”

“Well, it _is_ something I’m worried.”

“Well, it’s kind of childish.”

It's like the world stops moving when Thomas looks up at him, directly in the eyes, incredulity shimmering onto his face. "Excuse me?"

“You can’t be scared about everything. _‘Oh, she hates me and she’s never going to speak to me again’ ‘Oh, Brenda wants me to meet her parents,’ ‘Oh, I can’t move in with you guys because that’s moving out of my childhood home’ ’Oh, I want to go to Spain but I’m not ready’ - You_ have to grow up, Thomas, and face your fears about everything changing. Things are going to change whether you like it or not and if that means your friendship with Teresa is over, it’s _over_. You always call me the child but you're the one who won't grow up.”

The rational part of him - that’s currently hidden deep, deep, deep down inside of him - is aware that this is drunk Newt talking and drunk people say mean things when they’re hurt. 

But the hurt part of Thomas wants to feel irrational and angry back. The hurt part of him is a lot stronger than his rational side.

_It’s over._

“So is that how you really feel?” Thomas asks bitterly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Newt rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in the air, spinning around in exasperation. He turns back to Thomas, sighing, and says indignantly, “Precisely.”

An hour ago, Thomas was whispering in Newt’s ear about how no matter what happened, he and Sonya didn’t have to go through her pregnancy alone. He had almost managed to make Newt smile by telling him he finally had a reason to kick Ben’s “arse”.

Now, he just stares at him, his heart sinking and his stomach clenching, before turning to walk away. “Cool.”

“Thomas -“

“I get it, Newt. It's over."

Thomas hasn't cried for almost 12 years, since that fateful May 16th. 

But the minute he steps into his Jeep, he feels the rain starts to pour as images of his parents fighting, Teresa's lip quivering as she realizes that he  _knew_ , Sonya's horrified face as she tells him she's pregnant, and Newt's shaking hands as he tells him to grow up, flash in front of his eyelids and Thomas realizes for the first time exactly how much he's traumatized by change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry about the long wait! i know the chapter ended on the worst kind of cliffhanger (don't hate me, I promise things will work out!) but i had to split this chapter in two because it would be way too long and i was having trouble deciding how I was going to continue the next two. i will try my BEST to get this updated before/during the weekend so i don't leave you all hanging!  
> i'm always interested in hearing what you guys think, good or bad. leave a comment and kudos if you can! lots of love xx  
> ALSO don't believe evverryythinggg Thomas says/thinks. it's only his perspective remember, so it may not always be the actual truth.


	14. Wake Me Up When December Ends (The Morning After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you really think it’s over?”
> 
> “Pardon?”
> 
> Thomas turns back to him. “Teresa. Do you really think she wants nothing to do with me?”
> 
> The question catches Newt off guard a little bit. He scratches his chin before sighing slowly, “No. I don’t."
> 
> or where there's a very special christmas miracle. {december}

_“Thomas.”_

He’s in dream land.

In the rare occasions Thomas can remember his dreams, he’s usually on the run. He’s usually running through stone-walled mazes, shouting for someone in the distance. He’s filled with a sense of panic as he sprints past the intricately designed labyrinth, sweat dripping down his back. His throat is parched and his eyes are burning with fatigue, but for some reason he knows he _has_ to keep running.

But in this dream, the labyrinth is gone. There's a scorched out Earth appears in front of him, instead. In the distance, he can see mountains and he knows that’s where he wants to be, but he just can’t figure out _why_. Sand coats the ground before him and soon all he can see is sand. Sand is dancing into his eyes, sand is crawling into his pants - soon, all he can even think about is sand.

“Thomas,” His mother urges him a bit more sharply, taking him out of dreamland and shaking his shoulder harsher he would have liked. “Wake up. You have a visitor.

He’s really not in the mood to see his Aunt Susan or her army of rumbling children. His heart still hurts and his mind is full of foul thoughts, too foul for the ears of innocent eight year old children.

He mumbles something and turns over on his side, facing away from her. Sleep slowly begins to escape him and his sand-filled dream begins to disappear. Sunlight pours in through the curtains and drapes Thomas’s eyelids, but his heart is full of too much sadness.

“ _Thomas_ ,” His mother prods him with a much louder voice. “Newt’s downstairs. His plane is leaving in three hours, please don’t keep him -“

Thomas had bolt up the minute she said _Newt_ and is almost halfway down the stairs before he realizes he hasn’t brushed his teeth or changed out of his clothes from last night. He sees the bottom of Newt’s figure, his pure white sneakers, waiting for him and turns his body back up the stairs.

Although, against better judgement, he turns back and continues his way down the stairs and it’s not until he’s standing face to face with Newt that he realizes he has no idea what to say.

Newt lifts his head up, with his light brown eyes and bright pink nose. Thomas’s weary eyes perceive sand to be on top of the blond’s messy hair, but Newt’s winter coat and soaking boots tell him otherwise. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

He wants to ask, _How did you get here? Are you cold? Do you have a headache? Do you need medicine? Are you hungry? Do you need soup?_

But Newt keeps opening and closing his mouth, trying to find the right words to say. He starts pacing in front of Thomas, until he inhales a deep breath and stops to look him in the eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Thomas raises his eyebrow. “For what?”

Newt inhales another breath, trying to refrain from pacing again. “I don’t - this is going to sound horrible, I know I’m sorry - but, I don’t remember what I said exactly last night. Sonya told me you left in a hurry and that I had said some pretty nasty things about you. So I’m sorry.”

“You told me I’m childish. That I should just accept my friendship with Teresa is over. That I’m the one who won’t grow up.” Thomas reminds him quietly, avoiding his eyes.

When he finally does look back up at Newt, the other boy has his head in his hand and is biting his lip. “Look, Thomas -“

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Thomas says quietly. “I want everything to stay the way it is because I can’t accept change.”

“So what if it’s true?” Newt asks, with a dry laugh. “I’m the one who tried to fly to Neverland because I was afraid of going to college. We’re both insane in the membrane. That doesn’t mean I should have said it.”

The corner of Thomas’s mouth itches into a smirk but he looks away from Newt. “Do you really think it’s over?”

“Pardon?”

Thomas turns back to him. “Teresa. Do you really think she wants nothing to do with me?”

The question catches Newt off guard a little bit. He scratches his chin before sighing slowly, “No. I don’t.”

“You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it.”

“I was drunk.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

Newt raises his eyebrows and sighs again. “Sure. I must have thought it at _some_ point. Maybe after watching you break apart while leaving all those genuine voicemails and text messages for her that she never responded to. Maybe after she stormed in at the party on Halloween with Gally and proceeded to rile you up into a depression, _knowing_ how much you were hurting. If you really want my honest opinion, Thomas, I almost _hoped_ it would be over.”

Thomas’s eyebrows raise and his jaw drops but Newt cuts him off before he can say anything. “I know it sounds bad as I say it out loud. But if _you_ had seen yourself, moping around, and how dreadfully miserable you were, you’d wish the same thing. I only wished that you could be happy again.”

Thomas has to look away again before Newt can see the red creeping onto his cheeks. 

“So I’m sorry about that, too. I’m sorry about every ill thought I ever had of Teresa. I’m sorry about all the horrible things I said to you last night. I’m sorry I hurt you, Thomas.”

Thomas has become as red as Rudolph’s shining nose and he feels like a twelve year old girl for his uncontrollable smile. He only manages to mutter, “You call me Tommy. That makes me happy”, before scratching his neck and wishing to fall into a ditch.

When Thomas dares to look up, he sees Newt beaming back at him with the widest of smiles and brightest of his eyes.

He tries to capture this image of Newt in his head before he says, “But Teresa makes me happy, too. Mad at me or not, she’s the one constant person I can always and have always depended on. She’s my best friend, Newt. I can’t give up on her.”

Newt inhales a deep breath through his nose, nodding his head. “Of course.”

“I can’t take too many changes all at once. I _really_ can’t lose _you_ too. And everything has just been changing lately that I don’t feel like I know what’s real and what’s not,” Thomas blurts out, completely forgetting the only flight back to Heathrow airport that day is leaving in less than three hours. “Sonya’s pregnant. Your _sister_ Sonya is pregnant.”

Newt grimaces. “Ah. Out of all things, I do remember _that_.”

“Teresa and,” Thomas makes a face before spitting out the words. “ _Gally_ might be a thing. Minho has a crush on someone -“

“Sorry?” Newt’s ears perk up and a curious look etches onto his face.

“Minho wants to hook up with someone?”

Newt frowns. “Is that what you said?”

“Yeah. Why would I say anything else?”

“I could have sworn you said he had a crush on someone.”

“I did only get four hours of sleep. I’m a bit delirious.”

Newt’s frown only deepens. “Why is him wanting to hook up with someone a change from ordinary Minho?”

Thomas’s lying skills still suck so he just shrugs in response. “Is Sonya going to keep the baby?”

Newt looks completely taken aback and his mind is completely off of Thomas’s slip up. “Oh. Wow. Um, I never thought about it. I mean, I don’t know if she has, either.”

“I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Newt tells him, but his attention isn’t on Thomas. He’s beginning to look more troubled and stressed than he did when he first arrived.

“Do you need a ride back to the Glade?” Thomas asks.

“That’s okay. I have a cab waiting for me outside to take me to the airport. Oh, shit!” Newt’s eyes widen in panic as he realizes the length of time he has kept the cab waiting.

Thomas reaches for Newt’s arm and his coat. “Why don’t I give you a ride?”

Newt’s eyes travel down to Thomas’s hand on his arm and then back to Thomas’s eyes. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I -“

“Look, Thoma - Tommy. I understand that you’re concerned about Teresa right now and that you can’t focus on anything else. If I lost Minho like that, I guess I’d be preoccupied too.” Newt gently slides away from Thomas’s reach, to open the door. “I’m okay. We’re okay. I’ll see you when we get back.”

He slips away so quickly through the door, it’s almost as if he had never really been there in the first place.

* * *

Christmas morning is a blur of snow, presents, music, family calls, Christmas carolers, and flirting.

It’s the first Christmas Thomas and his mother have spent with someone other than Teresa’s family. It’s not even 12:00 in the afternoon and his mother’s eyes are bright with happiness and her laughter full of giddiness. 

Thomas watches them with a rather melancholy smile as her favorite Mariah Carey Christmas song blasts from the radio and Officer Tommy pulls her into a waltz, clumsily tripping over his feet. He’s wearing his uniform, despite the holiday, and singing to her with affection in his eyes, smiling as she throws her head back with laughter.

It’s almost sickening how much they’ve fallen for each other in the course of six months but Thomas loves his mother and he loves her even more when she’s happy.

Which is why he’s almost anxious to tell her that he’s planning on moving out.

He’s supposed to be all moved in by the time Minho and Newt get back from their respective Christmas breaks but he hasn’t even started packing his belongings or applied to the job at the coffee house. He turns away from his mother and Officer Tommy, staring at their comfortable kitchen that’s been his home for the past twenty years. He’s grown attached to the red and white tablecloth, red-checkered place mats, white wicker chairs, and wooden floor. The idea of moving into a bare kitchen with cheap Ikea dining materials has him questioning if he _should_ consider leaving. His mother will be lonely without him and need his help with the bills.

Maybe he should just stay.

He turns back around at the sound of his mother’s high-pitched, clear giggles and her hands clasped tight with Tommy. They’ve moved on from dancing like high schoolers in the living room to waving out the window at the cold carolers who appear to have lost the joy they once had at 8am that morning.

_No. She won’t be lonely,_ Thomas sighs. _She won’t even mind the change after awhile. I’m the only one who’s stuck living in the past, terrified of losing all the good times we’ve had._

Thomas looks at his phone and at the time. Newt would already be at dinner with his family, trying to move on from the ugly truth in the middle of the room. Sonya will be contemplating on the right time to break the news.

He picks up his phone and begins to dial when his mother abruptly calls out, “Oh, look! It’s Mary, Mark, and Teresa! Thomas, come quick. They’re carrying presents and food!”

Thomas’s ears perk up at the sound of Teresa’s name and he looks in disbelief at the door. He’s almost holding his breath as he hears footsteps come up to the door.

Before the doorbell can ring, his mother’s flung the door open and is welcoming the Agnes family into the house, Teresa included.

She stops, at first, when she sees Thomas staring at her with wide eyes and a slacked jaw, but proceeds to take off her boots and cautiously walk towards him.

“Hi.”

He drops the phone in his hand, Minho’s number only half dialed. “Hey.”

She nods her head, averting her piercing blue eyes. 

“You came,” Thomas blurts out, not only breaking the already awkward silence, but also enhancing it. He pats his pocket before unnecessarily adding, “I mean, I - I wasn’t sure.”

A small smile pushes at her baby pink lips, the same color as her frosty nose. “We’ve always spent Christmas together.”

_We used to always spend Thanksgiving together, too. And my birthday. And your birthday._

He doesn’t mention that aloud. “Are you cold?”

She shakes off her winter jacket and scarf, resting them on the kitchen counter top. “Listen, Thomas -“

“I’m sorry.” He cuts her off unintentionally, unable to keep the words in. “I know I’ve said it a million times and I know it just gets more meaningless the more I say it, but I really am truly sorry, T. I should’ve have just told you the truth, but I was scared. I was scared things wouldn’t be the same between us and that you would hate me. Which ended up happening anyways. I don’t think I can handle change very well, if you haven’t noticed. And it’s caused me to lose some of the best people in my life.”

She stares at him for a second, before abruptly flinging her arms around his neck and whispering, “I’m sorry I was a bitch. I was just mad, Tom. I could never hate you, no matter what you do.”

He grins before wrapping his arms around her. “Even if I set a flame to your house, in an elaborate plan to present myself as a hero to your cold-blooded parents, but accidentally burned it down?”

Teresa pulls away, her eyes wide and her jaw dropped. “I _knew_ it! You did like the movie.”

“Teresa, it was awful.”

“Oh please, you _loved_ it.”

“I love _you_. Which is why I endured two hours of that shit show and why I, uh, I bought this.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box.

Teresa’s eyes widen even more, becoming the color of the Tiffany box. “You did not.”

“I might have.”

“Thomas!”

This attracts Mary’s attention. “What’s going on, dear? I’m _so_ happy to see you together again!”

Teresa ignores her mother, pulling Thomas out of sight from the living room. She carefully unwraps the ribbon on the box, lifting up the lid. “Oh my _God_.”

She holds the sterling silver locket in her pale fingers, delicately opening it up. Inside, is a picture of the two after a mud fight. Dirt is caked over Thomas’s face and Teresa’s toothy smile is marred by mud in between her teeth. His arm is wrapped over her shoulder and her arms are open wide, displaying their mud castle.

She looks back up at him, her eyes threatening to reveal tears. “Thank you, Tom. I love it. It’s perfect - it’s, well fuck. I didn’t get you anything.”

“You did.”

“No I didn’t.”

“I’m going to say something a twelve year old girl would say. And you’re not allowed to judge.”

“You just quoted a scene from Endless Love. The 1981 version I made you watch before our senior prom, I’m already judging you.”

He snorts, casting his eyes downward and trying to hold back a smile. “Your friendship. It’s the best present you could ever give me.”

Her face slowly breaks into a toothy smile, this time no mud caked in between her pearly white teeth. She throws her arms back around his shoulders and whispers, “I love you, Tom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow so about that hiatus huh?! i am SO sorry about that. so many things came up and i could give you all a laundry list of excuses but how about a double update instead???
> 
> thank you SO SO SO much if you stayed around this long. i promise i won't ever do that to you guys again! xx


	15. New Years Resolutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I understand that feeling.”
> 
> The tipsy Thomas says petulantly, “You couldn’t possibly.”
> 
> “Trust me, I do. I used to feel the same way about you.”
> 
> And it’s in that moment that Thomas makes his first New Years resolution.
> 
> or where the new year brings many unexpected surprises to the Gladers. {january}

On January 1st, of the brand new year, Thomas makes his very first resolution.

He’s in the bitter cold, bundled up in an old blue ski jacket and ratty red gloves. Snow falls lightly from the sky, coating his hair and making it even more cold than it was when they’d arrived at the Public Gardens.

In contrast, Teresa looks positively radiant in a white winter coat and red scarf. Her cheeks are rosy pink and she was smart enough to wear earmuffs.

When the clock struck midnight, she kissed their old high school friend, Jeff, and turned to Thomas. He’d almost expected her to try and kiss him but she kept nodding her heads towards Jeff in a suggestive manner, unsubtly winking her eye.

It took him a humiliating five minutes to understand what was going on before he spins around on his heel and calls over his shoulder, “ _Bye_ Teresa.”

“Come _on_!” She coaxes him, trotting after him in black high-heeled boots to keep up. “It’s not like you’ve had proper action in a while. It wouldn’t _hurt_.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He asks, stopping abruptly. “Jeff? _Jeff_? The kid who used to hide in the boys locker room after football practice to watch them shower? You’re literally mental.”

Teresa rolls her eyes. “Mental, huh? What, are you British now?” Before Thomas can stutter over his words, she continues. “I’m just saying. You’re his type. And, uh, well maybe he’s yours.”

Thomas’s eyes widen before his face contorts into the most disgusted expression he can muster. “ _What_?!”

Teresa shrugs, holding her hands up in surrender. “Okay, you could obviously do better, but it’s not like Newt’s here.”

Thomas has to sit down on a bench in order to stop his head from spinning. “Jesus.”

“No, I’m Teresa. We get mistaken for each other a lot.”

“Dear God.”

“I get mistaken for him too.”

Thomas looks slowly up at her, exasperation swimming in his eyes. “I forgot how insufferable you can be.”

“And I forgot how annoying you can be,” Teresa declares, plopping down next to him. “I know you like him.”

“Does the entire fucking campus know?”

“If you count me, Brenda, Minho, Sonya, Harriet, Frypan, Alby, Aris, Rachel, Ben, and Gally -“

“ _Gally_? Out of all the fucking people in the world, _he_ knows?”

“Oh, relax.” Teresa tells him comfortingly, pulling two silver flasks out of her purse. “Have some rosé. It’ll calm your nerves. And it’s not like I told him. He found out from Ben.”

He’s downed the entire flask by the time Teresa’s finished her sentence. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Stop being such a whiny bastard. It’s not the end of the world.” She leans in closer to him, close enough that he can see the other flask in her purse, and whispers, “Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this. Minho made me _swear_ not to tell you that he likes you too!”

Thomas doesn’t say anything. He pulls the other flask out of Teresa’s purse and flicks it open with his thumb, taking a silent shot.

Teresa frowns, her face becoming suspicious. “Why aren’t you reacting?”

“I know.”

“You know what?”

“I know that he liked me.”

“You know?” Teresa exclaims in utter shock, pulling away from him. “We all just thought you were dense.”

This time, Thomas does react. He does a double take, as if he’s experiencing a case of extreme déjà vu. 

He remembers it was a warm a day in September, right around the beginning of track season. He remember sitting next to Minho on the bleachers, playing with his water bottle, instead of looking the other boy in the eyes.

_“Why aren’t you reacting?”_

_“I know.”_

_“You know what?”_

_“I know that she liked me.”_

_“You know?” Minho asks in shock. “God, we all just thought you were dense as fuck.”_

“How much time have you been spending with Minho?”

Teresa frowns before shrugging. “I don’t know. We’re in the same French Government and Politics class.”

“Do you talk to him outside of the class a lot?”

“What, is this 20 questions? Besides, don’t change the subject. We’re talking about _you_.”

“I’d rather talk about me over some cheap beer and soggy French fries.”

A half an hour later, they’re sitting in her kitchen with cheap beer purchased by Teresa and some soggy French fries Thomas bought at a sad fast food market.

“He _told_ you?” Teresa exclaims, popping a French fry into her mouth. “He even came to your house a cab two hours before his flight was supposed to leave to tell you he was freaking sorry for something he couldn’t even remember and you’re saying that you’re _still_ not sure?! Thomas Greene, what the _hell_ is wrong with you?”

Honestly, Thomas has been wondering that same thing himself for the past twenty years.

He's chugged two cans of beer and his head’s starting to feel a little woozy. He always likes this kind of buzzed; where he’s conscious enough of his surroundings to keep certain things to himself, but where he’s tipsy enough to feel giddy and carefree. He wonders if this is what Harriet feels like now that she’s old enough to buy her own alcohol and if she buys wine to drink in her dorm room at night as she’s studying for a science exam.

He realizes it’s been a while since he’s talked to Harriet and makes a useless mental reminder to call her in the morning.

Unfortunately, his brain comes back to reality and he drops his head into his hands. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“Damn straight I don’t understand! He _likes you_. He has a crush on you. You _know_ he feels the same way you do.” Teresa says, judgement thinly veiled in her voice. “And yet, you’re apprehensive about this, about making a move. It just sounds ridiculous to me that you _know_ he wants to be with you and you want to be with him but you don’t want to do anything about it?”

“It’s because I can see my whole life with him, okay?” Thomas blurts out, a lot more buzzed than he realized. “Every choice I fucking plan out for the future, he’s apart of it. Do I move to D.C after graduation to intern at the State Department? If I do, would there be something for Newt with his ridiculous British and American literature degree so he doesn’t feel bored and useless? Should we lease an apartment or rent it? Are we the type of people that sign up for gym memberships? What if he wants to move back to London? I’d give up being the president of the World Bank any day if that was what he truly wanted, I could find something to do with British politics. Would a dog be too much to ask for or should we wait until after we’re mar-“

Thomas stops himself just in time. He sinks his fingers through his hair and pops open another can of beer, not putting the can back down on the table until it’s empty and his bladder is full.

Teresa’s regarding him with sad, blue eyes and that damn look of pity he hates. She eventually sighs and asks, “So, why is that a problem?”

“Because I don’t want to be this some college fling he’ll forget about in a few years. What if we start something now, but then we break up because something atrocious happened between us, and we never speak to each other again? I don’t want bad timing to be the demise of our relationship because he _really_ means something to me, T. No, he doesn’t just mean something - he means everything to me. But he’s still a child in his heart. And frankly, so am I. And how can two children _possibly_ be in the right place to start such a meaningful relationship without screwing up?”

An hour ago, Teresa’s cheeks were rosy pink and her eyes were crystal blue. Her skin was pale as the winter snow but her face was bright with happiness. Now, she looks duller, like Christmas lights decorating a tree that have been shut off.

She announces with a hollow voice, “I understand that feeling.”

The tipsy Thomas says petulantly, “You couldn’t possibly.”

“Trust me, I do. I used to feel the same way about you.”

And it’s in that moment that Thomas makes his first New Years resolution: he’s going to grow up and stop being so damn afraid of change.

* * *

In theory, he could not have picked a _worse_  time to make said New Years resolution.

In between consoling his weeping mother that it was, in fact, for the best he moved out, packing and transporting his belongings to the apartment, and keeping up with his second semester classes, Thomas barely saw Newt.

And when he did, Newt was on his way out the door to his own job or classes or to be with his sister.

One day in the middle of January, he’d seen Newt for a total of five minutes - the longest he’d seen him all month.

“Sonya could not have picked a worse time to get pregnant,” Minho sighs on the couch, one night, multiple bills haunting his eyesight on the new coffee table.

On either side of him, Thomas and Harriet mutter, “True.”

“You and I are going to have to foot the bills for the next two months, shank.” Minho continues. “The water bill’s $45 this month, which isn’t that bad. Gas is $75, which is not ideal. Damn electricity is $85, meaning we’re going to learn how to do without it for a couple months.”

“And don’t forget about rent,” Harriet adds, pointing to a rather thick envelope at the corner of the table.

Thomas and Minho’s eyes slowly travel over to the envelope in terror.

Minho grunts and gets up to leave the living room, “I have to call my dad.”

Thomas gingerly picks it up before Harriet slaps his hand. “I once overheard a conversation between Sonya and her mom about their rent. I don’t think you want to look at it.”

“Yeah but my imagination’s more scary,” Thomas tells her as he opens it carefully before his eyes bulge. “What the _fuck_?”

“I told you.”

“Harriet, this apartment is $ _1,189_ a month!” Thomas exclaims, feeling like he has just discovered quantum physics. “So they’ve each paid almost $600 for this apartment since August?!”

Harriet shakes her head. “Minho’s _dad_ has paid $600 each month for this apartment. And he just recently told Minho that it’s absolutely absurd he’s paying this much money and he’s withdrawing his contributions by a half.”

Thomas cringes and drops the envelope, sinking back onto the couch. “Jesus.”

“It’s a nice apartment. You guys have access to a pool and a gym and free wi-fi. Really, it's great.”

“So if Minho’s dad pitches in, say $300 each month, that brings the total down to about $889,” Thomas calculates mentally, drawing his finger around in the air. “So divide that by two and you’re going to get…almost $445.”

“I guess that’s not _horrible_.”

“I need to go to apply for a second job.”

* * *

Two weeks later, when he gets his first paycheck from Java Jones, Thomas is greeted by an anti-climatic $213 bucks.

On one of his lunch breaks, Minho and Teresa come to visit him, ordering French vanilla iced coffees. 

“Is Newt coming?” Thomas asks, once his manager is out of sight. His voice soundsdesperate, even to his own ears, but he’d been on his feet for the past four hours and was starting to develop murderous feelings towards obnoxious, caffeine-addicted college students. 

Minho shrugs, looking away from Thomas, causing Teresa to elbow him in the side. Minho groans and replies, “No, he couldn’t make it.”

“He couldn’t make it, or he didn’t want to?”

Minho grimaces. “Look, Thomas, you’re putting me in a hard position here. He’s hurting, remember? You broke his heart and his sister’s currently living her worst nightmare. Give him some time.”

“A month, Minho? He’s been avoiding me for a whole _month_ -“

“And he’s had a crush on you since he’s met you,” Minho interjects dismissively. “You’ll live.”

“Really?” Thomas and Teresa ask in unison, their eyebrows curling into frowns.

“He wouldn’t shut up about you when he first met you, so in my opinion, yes. He really likes you. Thomas, he’s struggling here. All Newt knows how to do when he’s struggling, is push people away. Just give him some time.”

Thomas doesn’t want to give him some time. Thomas wants to tell him he was being stupid for thinking he could control the outcome of their future by making them wait until they were ready - because hell, they would _never_ be ready. There would never be the perfect time and all Thomas wants to do is be with him in the time that they do have.

But Newt’s dear sister Sonya Newton is pregnant with Ben Sheffield’s child and Newt's a little too preoccupied to hear that right now.

He sighs, leaning forward onto the counter. “I fucked up.”

“You did.”

“Minho!” Teresa hisses, sharply elbowing him in the side.

“What, Teresa?” He asks, genuinely confused. “If it were Thomas in Newt’s position right now, you’d say the same exact thing.”

That catches Teresa’s tongue. She sighs and pats Thomas’s arm. “Tom, it’s going to be alright. You can fix this.”

“And what if I can’t?”

Unfortunately - or fortunately - their conversation is cut short, by Gally and his minions. The bell rings above the door as they walk in, taking Thomas’s lovely uniform in. 

Gally’s jaw drops and his eyes widen, before his cheeks start to turn pink. He breaks out into a roaring laugh before sniffling, “Aw, the little Greenie is going to be our server today? Let’s have some fun with this.”

Gally suddenly notices Teresa, who just sighs and rolls her eyes. Thomas is far too emotionally exhausted to deal with Gally right now, or Ben for that matter. 

_You’re the reason why everything’s a mess,_ Thomas wants to snarl at him before chucking a lemon-frosted cupcake at him.

Instead he rolls his eyes and sighs, “Look, Gally, can’t we just be civil? I mean, we’re gonna have to start dealing with each other on a much more personal basis because of you.”

Thomas directs the latter portion of his sentence towards Ben, who frowns and makes a face. “Excuse me?”

Thomas frowns in return. “What do you mean, “excuse me”? I’m talking about you and Sonya.”

Ben looks at Thomas like he’s a madman, running around the campus with fire on his head. “Thomas, there is no me and Sonya. It’s over.”

“You dick! How could you leave her when she’s going through this?” Minho growled, his neck turning beet red. Teresa’s hand slowly finds its way to his arm, and Thomas can see her lips moving softly, quiet words traveling to Minho’s hot ears.

Ben’s eyes widen, looking quite taken aback. “Are you guys for real right now? I _offered_ to stay with her through this. _She’s_ the one who broke up with _me_!”

If they were a movie, the room would have gone silent. The film soundtrack would have stopped playing for a moment before switching to a suspenseful piano chord, crescendoing as the tension heightened in the cafe.

“Wait, what?” Teresa voices for the two shell-shocked boys after a long moment of silence. “ _She_ did?”

Ben rolls his eyes and holds his hand up in surrender towards Minho. “I tried to be there for her, okay man? She didn’t want me.”

But Minho can’t seem to find any words to say back. He’s frozen and staring at Ben as if he’s meeting him for the first time.

Gally’s watching Minho and Thomas curiously and silently, his cold eyes darting back and forth. He sighs and then hits Ben’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. There are some girls on the quad who wanna chill with us.”

Gally ushers his minions out of the shop, not turning around to look back at either Thomas or Minho. He does a small head nod in Teresa’s direction before exiting the shop.

And while it’s a small gesture, it’s a gesture nonetheless. 

* * *

Creative Literature is a class that does not require every day attendance, Thomas reasons with himself as he and Sonya take a lap around campus. They’re not missing much - Williams Carlos Williams is dead and no longer cares if they appreciate his poetry - and it’s a beautiful day for January, making it the perfect time to confront Sonya about her quiet break-up.

Her demeanor is meek and quiet as she explains, “He didn’t want to be with me anymore. It’s been evident since the beginning of the year, Thomas. Remember when I came to you about it? He hasn’t wanted to be with me and he’s stayed because he felt like he had to. That’s not the kind of relationship I want to be in right now.”

“You were so in love with him, though.”

“At one point, I was. But then I became in love with the idea of being with him, as opposed to actually loving him. And that’s when everything started to change and grave mistakes were made.”

“So why didn’t you tell us that you had cut things off with him?” 

Sonya shrugs. “I don’t know. It was something I had to do by myself, I thought. My poor brother’s been the glue I needed throughout this process, to keep me together while everything is falling apart, and I guess I just wanted to be my own glue.”

He almost wants to do a double-take at her, to make sure that he's still talking to the Sonya Newton, the  doe-eyed and cheery spirited Sonya Newton, who still believed in love and in the best of everyone - despite having seen the worst. A realization begins to dawn on him that he and Newt aren't the only ones growing up.

A smile crosses his face as he grabs her hand. “I’m so proud of you, Sonya. I really am. You’re amazing and so strong and you’re going to survive this, you and your baby. And I’ll be there, right by both of your sides.”

“You won’t have to,” She whispers, pulling her hands out of his slowly. 

“What do you mean? Of course I want to be there -“

“No, Thomas, it’s not that.”

It feels like a cold air hits their bodies, despite the sun shining down on them. The words are already floating around his head before she even opens her mouth. 

“I’m not going to have the baby.”

He reaches for her hands once more, and stares at her. “Sonya -“

“I can’t do it, Thomas.” She says, suddenly stopping. They’re far away from the quad, close to the Hall B dorms she and Harriet used to live in. She’s staring at the old building sadly, as if it’s haunting her. “I’m not ready and I’m too scared. What would I even do with a child right now? I can’t take care of one, I can't even take care of myself! I’m an English citizen living across the pond, without a stable job or trust fund. I would be putting the child through hell, I’m such a monster -”

Her voice cracks sharply so Thomas grips her hand tighter, finally causing her to look at him, tears pooling in her brown eyes. “Sonya, it’s _okay_. I support _every_ decision you’re going to make that’s best for you, and ultimately best for the baby. We all love you, it’s going to be okay.”

He says those same four words to her over and over and over again, until the day she walks out of the clinic, with a broken heart and haunted eyes.

* * *

“There. You’re all moved in now.” Newt says, as they carry in the last of Thomas’s boxes. His sofa bed in the middle of the living room is now complete with his childhood comforter and the apartment begins to feel a bit more like home.

Minho pats Thomas’s shoulder, before picking up his keys. “I’m going out.”

Newt frowns, watching him head towards the door. “Already? Where are you going?”

“There’s someone I have to meet,” Minho says briskly over his shoulder. “Don’t wait up.”

With that, the cold frost of late January sweeps in and engulfs the room, as the door slams behind him.

“Did you notice how he said “someone” as opposed to “chick”?” Newt asks, after a couple moments of silence.

_It’s because he has a crush on somebody_ , Thomas wants to say. 

“Yeah, that was nice of him.” Thomas says instead, the air thick and awkward between them.

Newt nods slowly, pursing his lips. He looks at Thomas quickly before turning towards his bedroom. “Well, I’m gonna hit the hay a bit early tonight. Night, Tommy.”

“Wait,” Thomas nearly pleads, his hand reaching for Newt’s wrist.

Newt stops, his eyes moving towards Thomas’s hand.

“I, um, well I uh,” Thomas stutters. He grimaces and pulls away for a moment, spinning around as if trying to find his bearings. “Newt, I, um, I want to tell you something. No, I, uh, _need_ to tell you something.”

Newt looks at him expectantly.

It’s the sudden intensity of his big, brown eyes that makes Thomas hesitant. His mouth is opening and closing, like a fish out of water that can’t get enough air, but suddenly all words seem foreign to him. He’s nearly fluent in three languages, yet none of them seem to have the right words he wants to say.

“Tommy?”

Thomas blinks and tries to return to reality. “I’m an idiot.”

Newt stares at him for a moment, raising his eyebrow. “This was the dire news you needed to relay to me?”

Thomas cringes slightly and mutters, “No. It wasn’t. I just - it’s hard for me to say.”

Newt takes a step closer to him, his eyes scanning Thomas’s body, and hums, “Hm, really?”

Thomas starts to fiddle with his hands, instead of looking the British boy in the eyes. “So, like, you know how I don’t handle change very well, right?”

Newt snorts, causing Thomas to glance at him momentarily. He’s two steps closer now. “Yeah. I’ve noticed.”

“But, I don’t know, I think it’s just because of everything that’s happened so far and stuff. You know?” He’s really not making any sense, even in his own head, but at least words are flowing out of his mouth.

They're just the most moronic words he's ever uttered in his life strung together in incoherent sentences.

Newt’s nearly face to face with him now. “You’re scared that people are going to leave you behind when things start to change. And the only constant person you’ve ever had in your life _did_ leave when things started to change. Your father started this fear in you, didn’t he?”

“I mean, I guess, probably,” Thomas stutters, looking back down at his hands to hide his blushing cheeks.

Newt’s close enough to him now that even though he’s whispering, Thomas can still hear him loud and clear. “Didn’t I tell you that not _everyone_ breaks their promises, Tommy?”

Thomas looks up and there he is, a lanky boy of mop-like, sandy blond hair and a large splash of freckles across his pale face. He’s a lost boy, the leader of the Lost Boys in Neverland, but there he is, right in front of Thomas.

And Thomas doesn’t plan on letting him get away this time.

“You did,” Thomas whispers back, slowly starting to lose himself in the heat of the moment and in the intensity of Newt’s eyes.

“So trust me then. Tell me what you _really_ need to tell me. Whatever’s so dire that you needed to keep me up for.”

Thomas has learned by now that words don’t come easily to him. He’s not good at saying what he really feels without screwing up what he means to say. 

A different thought crosses his mind, _I could show him._

Without giving himself time to think about the consequences or second guess himself, Thomas leans forward and closes the gap between him. His eyes are shut and his hands dance their way to Newt’s neck, as he feels the other boys’ thin fingers travel to his waist.

And it’s a lot less heated and rushed than their kisses during Spring Break were. They don’t have to be drunk or paranoid that someone could walk in on this moment, they have time to make it matter. It does matter - it matters how Newt's pulling him closer, instead of pushing him away. 

When he does pulls away softly, his head leans on Thomas’s forehead. “So my sister isn’t pregnant anymore.”

“She’s not.”

“And Teresa’s your best friend again.”

“She is.”

Newt purses his lips and looks Thomas in the eyes, hesitating. “And you’re doing this because _you_ want to do this? Not because everything’s back to normal and you need something else to lose your mind over?”

Thomas giggles, in a girlish manner, a genuine smile breaking out over his face. “You know me so well.”

His response satisfies Newt enough to pull Thomas into a hug, leaning his head onto Thomas’s shoulder. “Well, maybe not as well as I would _like_. For instance, you still haven’t told me who your first girlfriend was.”

Thomas leans back, his eyebrows furring into a frown. “Have you seriously been thinking about that _all_ this time?”

Newt shrugs coyly and drags the word out, “Maybe.”

Thomas chuckles and pulls the other boy back into another kiss, thinking that the conversation could sufficiently end there.

“Are you trying to shut me up with kisses? Thomas Greene, I am flabbergasted by this behavior! You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“You do realize the couch is my bed, right?"

"Oh, shut up and come here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay double update!!
> 
> i originally intended for this chapter to go in a COMPLETE different way than it ended up going, which is partially the reason it took so long to write. logistically, this was the best outcome and i'm happy with it, and i hope it met your expectations :)
> 
> considering this chapter took a drastic turn from my original outline i made almost a year ago, i'm going to need to revise the rest of the story but i don't think it's going to completely impair my updating process. i'm going to make it a goal to get the next chapter to you guys by the end of next week!
> 
> again SO sorry about the hiatus. and the horrendously long author's notes. you're all the bees knees xx


	16. Will You Be My Valentine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, please, it’ll be so fun! Thomas and Newt, are you in?”
> 
> Except Thomas and Newt have once again withdrawn from the conversation and are playing footsies under the table, like they’re the only two people in the universe at the moment. They’re having a silent conversation over chocolate milkshakes and salty French fries and life is good.
> 
> Life is real good."
> 
> or where love is in the air, sonya won't come out of her doom, thomas's mother pries into his valentines day plans, and minho throws a wicked party. {february}

The end of January brings a cold, February frost to the Glade and Sonya Newton still has yet to come out of her dorm room.

Ten days prior to Valentines Day, Harriet, Minho, Thomas, and Teresa are crouched outside her room, ears pressed against the door. They had sent Newt inside a while ago to convince his sullen sister to come out to the bar that night, but none of them could hear the progress of the conversation inside.

“My legs are starting to cramp,” Minho mutters, squatting down behind Harriet. He relaxes his legs and leans back against the wall. “How long have we been out here?”

“Eight minutes, now hush.” Harriet whispers sharply towards him, pressing her ear closer to the door. “I think I can hear what they’re saying now.”

Teresa gives her a dubious look. “Are you sure that’s not just the couple down the hall?”

Harriet and Minho turns their heads, to the aforementioned, overly-affectionate couple, and let out long sighs. “Damn it.”

Thomas shrugs. “Shouldn't we have some faith in Newt to handle this one on his own? I’m sure he's mature enough to have a serious conversation with his sister.”

“You’re only saying that cause you’re his boyfriend now,” Minho reprimands him. “And you’re supposed to say nice things about him. Newt is _not_ mature enough to handle Sonya on his own, which is why we are out here for backup.”

“Sh!” Harriet snaps at them. “They might hear us!”

Thomas almost doesn’t pay her any mind. The word _boyfriend_ still floats happily around his ears and he wants to smile giddily and pick dandelions in a sunny meadow. Newt’s his _boyfriend._ Newt’s _his_ boyfriend. _Newt’s_ his boyfriend.

Somehow, the more he says it, the more unreal it feels.

“I’ve got class in ten minutes across the quad,” Teresa says meekly, as if she's afraid of bringing out Harriet's wrath. “Is there any possible way we could hurry this up?”

Harriet presses her body closer to the door and sighs, “It’s really hard to hear what they’re saying. I’m not even sure if they’re talking anymore, it almost sounds like they’re -“

Harriet’s eyes widen but it’s too late. The door’s already been pulled open and she falls clumsily into the room, while Thomas, Minho, and Teresa scramble back into the hallway, pretending to stare at each other.

Sonya looks at them in confusion, while Newt drops his head in shame behind her.

“We were just,” Thomas starts to say before he realizes he would sound stupid saying what they were really doing. “Just, um, talking.”

“To the walls?” Sonya asks drily, her brown eyes focused on Thomas.

He wants to melt under her intense stare. “Yes. I mean, no! To each other. About politics.”

“You suck at lying,” She says bluntly, before helping Harriet off the ground. “I’m going to have to pass on tonight. Thank you for thinking of me, though.”

Sonya Newton never used to leave her dorm without a proper outfit on, her handbag full of ridiculous girl essentials, and make-up. That day, she walks solemnly down the hall in her striped pajamas and instead of her favorite Calvin Klein purse, she only holds her room key in her right hand.

Newt sighs, running his fingers through his messy hair. “That’s the sixth time we tried _this_ _week_ to get her out of her slump. And it’s only Tuesday!”

Teresa looks at her watch again before groaning, “Debrief me on her status later, okay? I can’t be late for International Banking Laws again. Catch ya later!”

“Bye! We just have to be patient,” Harriet reasons after Teresa jets off. “I mean, we’ve never been through her situation. Maybe she just feels like we don’t get it.”

“Well, we don’t.” Minho points out. “None of us have ever been pregnant before.”

"Thanks for stating the obvious."

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t be there for her,” Thomas objects. “We have to show her we care.”

Newt’s migrated to Thomas’s side by now and has his head on his shoulder. “Have we not shown we cared, though?”

“I think buying her those obnoxiously expensive chocolates she “adores” every day for the past two weeks is caring,” Minho says.

“And helping her destroy her Ben and Sonya scrapbook is pretty caring. Especially when it takes over three hours.” Harriet adds.

“What about all those magazines we cut up for her so she can play around with the models and dresses and make her own mock fashion show?”

“Or the morning lattes we bring her before she has to go to class?”

“Or listening to her rant about how the world is a fucked up place full of fucked people for two hours?”

“Or -“

“ _Okay_ ,” Thomas cuts them off with a groan, his fingers tapping a beat up Newt’s arm. “We’ve shown we cared. So, I suppose, we just wait for her move now. Like you said Harriet, maybe she feels like we wouldn’t understand what she’s going through.”

“I’ve got it!” Newt snaps his finger, detaching himself from Thomas in the process. The brunet begins to miss the warmth by his side as Newt paces in front of them. “She loves parties! Minho, have her plan your Valentines Day party. It’ll get her in brighter spirits _and_ you’ll have a legendary party.”

Minho hums. “Interesting. You think it’ll work? She only has ten days.”

“Oh, please. We planned his surprise party in six,” Harriet snorts, motioning her head at Newt. “Don’t underestimate her.”

“My cake was misspelt.” Newt reminds them childishly. “And the only decorations were sex toys.”

“Oh hush, Nude,” Harriet says dismissively, causing the other two to chuckle. “Minho’s not going to be in charge of decorations this time. Or the cake.”

“Hey, the cake wasn’t me! It was Thomas.”

Thomas frowns. “No, it wasn’t. I was on distraction duty.”

“I think Teresa was on cake duty,” Harriet tapped her lip. “She was supposed to call in the order.”

“Ah,” Newt murmurs, directed more to Thomas. “I _told_ you she didn’t like me.”

“Okay, _maybe_ now your argument sounds a little more valid.”

“Why don’t we regroup tonight at the bar?” Minho suggests, checking his watch. “I gotta jet.”

“Pretty lady you have to meet?” Harriet smirks.

Minho rolls his eyes. “No, Emmanuel. _Some_ of us actually go to class these days. Everybody in?”

“I’m sure Teresa will be, but I have to catch up with my mom tonight. Tell me how it goes?” Thomas asks.

Minho and Harriet trickle out of the hallway shortly afterwards, leaving Newt and Thomas to their own devices.

“Wanna head back to the apartment?” Newt asks as they stand idly in the hall, backs pressed against the wall.

“Nah. The hallway to your sister’s dorm is far more entertaining. If you lean your neck back _just_ like this, you can see the paint cracking!”

“You’re an arse.”

Thomas chuckles, intertwining their hands together. “This is nice. Just standing here with you. Let’s do it all day. Let’s make this our hallway.”

“You mean desecrate it so that no one _ever_ wants to come down this hallway without the sight of - “

“ _No_ ,” Thomas interjects sharply, laughing far too much for his tone to be serious. “I mean, let’s just stay here and hide from the world. This can be our kingdom.”

Newt looks at him strangely. “Tommy, it’s a hallway. Are you high?”

“High off of your love.”

Newt snorts and pulls him down the hallway. “Say something like that one more time and I’ll pretend I don’t know you.”

But he still presses a chaste kiss to Thomas's lips and Thomas really does begin to feel a little high.

* * *

Turns out Thomas can be a much better liar than he thought.

He returns back to that same hallway six hours later, when Newt, Minho, Harriet, and Teresa are all at the bar, thinking he’s at dinner with his mom and Officer Tommy. He sighs, trying to persuade himself that he’s doing this for the better good and that little white lies never hurt anyone, as he wraps his knuckles on Sonya’s dorm.

She opens the door with a light smile and a bowl of heavily-buttered popcorn. “Clueless, tonight? Cher always puts me in a good mood.”

“I have to say Christian’s my favorite character.” Thomas says as he walks into her room, laying his jacket on her desk.

“You’ve seen it before?” 

“Teresa loves it. She and I used to watch her favorite movies at her place all the time when we were lame freshmen in high school. God, that feels as if it were ages ago.”

“It almost was,” Sonya murmurs as they set up their routine bean bag chairs at the foot of her bed. “Must be having your best friend always there with you.”

Thomas mistakes the intention behind her words. “Harriet does care about you, Sonya. She's really worried, you know. Maybe you should think about having these movie nights with her.”

Sonya’s eyes widen a little and her lower lip seems to tremble. “You don’t like having movie nights with me?”

“Sonya, no! That’s absolutely _not_ what I meant! I -“

He falters when a giggle starts to crack through on her face. “I can’t believe you.”

“You fall for it _every_ time,” Sonya says, still giggling. “Trust me, Thomas, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I - I just trust you a little bit more right now than I trust the others. You were there for me every time I needed someone to listen to me. Where were they when I was having problems with Ben? I couldn’t go to them when I was worried about him leaving me, you were the only one who would listen. And right now, you’re the only one I want to listen.”

“But Newt’s your brother,” Thomas tries to reason. “He’s always going to be there for you.”

“And he’s your boyfriend.” Sonya says solemnly, looking at him for a moment. She turns her eyes away with a small sigh and wraps her arms around her knees. “I know, Thomas. You’re great. He’s great. Truly, they’re all great. It’s just…you’re the greatest one of all.”

She says the last part so quietly, he nearly doesn’t hear her. He innocently reaches for her hand but Sonya suddenly stands up. “Look, I’ll try to talk to Harriet or Newt tomorrow and have a real conversation with them this time. I think it’s time. It’s also time to start the movie!”

She slides the disk into her DVD player and turns on the screen, plopping back into her bean bag chair beside Thomas. She gives him a bright smile, that seems a little forced, and says, “You know, if we had wine, we could have a drinking game. Every time Cher says “as if!”, you have to take a shot.”

Thomas turns around and pulls a liter of Apple Juice out of the black backpack he brought with him. “Bottoms up, Newton. You’re going down.”

* * *

“Since Valentines Day is coming up quite soon, do you have any romantic plans with Newt yet?” Thomas’s mother asks him over Friday dinner two nights later with Officer Tommy.

Despite the fact that Officer Tommy and his mother have been in a serious and committed relationship for almost a year and a half by this point, Thomas still feels a bit awkward talking about his love life in the other’s presence. 

Officer Tommy looks up at Thomas. “You’re dating now? Congratulations.”

Thomas nods his head. “Thanks. And uh, I haven’t talked to him properly about it.”

“Why not?” His mother pries. “It’s your first holiday together! You _have_ to do something.”

“What are you going to do?” Thomas tries to steer the conversation away from him, in attempt to hide his burning cheeks.

His mother swiftly looks at Officer Tommy with a small smile. “We have plans. But you’re my son and I know you love to plan things for Newt, so I’m curious. Will it be like his last birthday party?”

His mother only knows about _part_ of Newt’s 20th surprise birthday. If she knew about the strippers, she might have wrung his neck, _despite_ the fact he’s pretty much a legal adult.

“No,” Thomas says quickly, scratching the back of his burning neck. “And really, mom, I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. Isn’t it kind of, well, early to do anything, like, super special? I mean, mom, we only really became a thing two weeks ago.”

His mother looks at him across the table as if he’s grown two heads. “Thomas! How _long_ you’ve been together doesn’t matter! It’s the fact that you _are_ together, that’s what you celebrate on Valentines Day.”

He doesn’t want to admit this to his mother - because he is twenty years old and there are _some_ things that twenty year old men do _not_ talk about with their mothers - but he has thought a _little_ about Valentines Day with Newt. Newt’s not a very extravagant guy - he likes pillow fights, vodka, and his Thomas. And in all honesty, Thomas figured they could spent the night with those three things and if somehow they ended up without clothes by the end of the night, so be it.

It wouldn’t be the first time Newt and Thomas and vodka all had an intimate moment together -

Thomas shakes his head violently, unintentionally, to get the memory of Spring Break out of his head in the presence of his mother.

Officer Tommy frowns. “You okay, Thomas? You look like you’re having war flashbacks.”

And suddenly, an idea pops into his mind. 

“Actually, I just thought of the perfect gift.”

* * *

The next time the entire group is together is the week of Valentines Day and it's safe to say, Minho is a bit stressed. 

The six troublemakers are at their favorite diner across the street from campus, with heaping plates of fries and burgers and creamy milkshakes in front of them. While the Korean native rambles and rambles on about how fucking  _dare_ Gally Poulter throw _another_ Valentines Day party the _same_ day as his, Thomas and Newt are playing footsies under the table.

It’s been three weeks to the day Thomas stopped acting like an idiot and finally “made a move” and he can’t stop staring into Newt’s pretty brown eyes across the table. 

 _They are really pretty_ , Thomas thinks to himself, even though pretty isn’t normally the adjective he’d use to describe Newt. Childish, maybe. Adorable. Funny. Breathtaking. Lively.

But pretty is a new one. He wants to test the word out on his tongue, say it to Newt’s face, while the other boy wraps his fingers around his waist -

But they are in the presence of their friends and Teresa’s nudging his side harshly. “ _Tom_. Did you hear Minho?”

Thomas looks over her head towards the other boy on their side of the booth. “Sorry?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “That’s it. You two are not allowed to be in the same vicinity as each other while party planning is happening. Harriet and Newt, switch places.”

“What?” Newt frowns that _adorable_ frown of his. “You can’t do that.”

“It’s _my_ party. I get supreme word.”

“Actually, I do.” Sonya cuts in, tearing her eyes away from Thomas’s direction, and pats her brother’s shoulder. “You can stay here. I’ll answer for Thomas.”

Newt’s frown only deepens. “ _I’ll_ answer for Thomas.”

“You weren’t even bloody listening! What did Minho ask him?”

Newt seems to be at a loss for words as he looks back at Thomas. “Do you know what it was?”

“ _That’s_ why we’re separating them,” Minho says while chewing his French fries.

Harriet rolls her eyes. “Do you _have_ to eat like a caveman?”

“Do you _have_ to nitpick everything?”

“Do you _have_ to be such a -“

“Girls, girls, you’re _both_ pretty.” Teresa interrupts them, patting Minho’s shoulder. “Anyways, why doesn’t _Thomas_ answer for Thomas? Minho asked you what you’re bringing.”

“Where?”

Minho throws his hands up in the air and if the situation weren’t so serious in Minho’s eyes, Thomas would find the action hilarious. “Can we separate them _now_?”

“The party, Thomas,” Sonya explains calmly. “What are you bringing to the party?”

“Oh! I thought we already discussed this, Minho. I’m helping you get the beer.”

Harriet raises her eyebrows. “No, that was me. You and Newt are still underage, why would you, out of all of us, get the beer?”

As she says that out loud, it dawns on Thomas that he probably should have been paying more attention to the conversation. 

“We still need decorations, ice, and candy.” Sonya tells him, checking their list. “Teresa and I are in charge of the pizza and music. Newt’s in charge of the invitations. Minho and Harriet are in charge of the alcohol. Thomas, why don’t you buy the ice and candy beforehand? I’ll pick up some decorations from the warehouse in the fashion building.”

“So the party starts at 8, right?” Teresa clarifies. “That means we should be at your apartment by what, 5?”

“3:30, on the dot.” Sonya corrects her, and it’s nice to see Sonya at her prime again. Her face has more color and her hair has more volume than it has in the past few months. “We need ample time to set up, pre-game, and make sure _nothing_ goes wrong. If we’re going to beat Gally, we _have_ to bring our A game. If you come later than 3:30, you owe the squad that amount of money in quarters. Let’s say you’re 15 minutes late. You owe the group 15 quarters.”

“You’re bloody bonkers, Sonya,” Newt shakes his head. “What if someone’s late because they’re running into trouble with whatever they’re in charge of?”

“Like what?”

“Ice." Thomas pipes in. “What if there’s traffic or something and it all melts so I have to go back and get more?”

“So don’t get into traffic.”

“Ah.”

“So are we all in? Do we all know what we’re doing?” Harriet asks.

“3:30 sharp at the apartment with pizza and a killer playlist.” Teresa responds. “Check.”

“I’ve got the ice and Valentines Day chocolates.” Thomas gives her a thumbs up.

“I’ll send out your cheeky invitations tonight.” Newt says.

“And we’ll get the classy and overly expensive wine the night before.” Minho decides. “Wow, I’m great.”

“Why you?” Sonya frowns.

“I was the one who decided to have this party. And it’s going to be fucking killer.”

Harriet rolls her eyes. “It’s not like we had anything to do with that. You were a hot mess when we all first came into the diner and it was us who made it work.”

Teresa giggles. “I think we all deserve a nice Chardonnay for this excellent team work.”

“Wine and dine!” Sonya exclaims, her bubbly energy becoming infectious like it once used to. “Oh, please, it’ll be so fun! Thomas and Newt, are you in?”

Except Thomas and Newt have once again withdrawn from the conversation and are playing footsies under the table, like they’re the only two people in the universe at the moment. They’re having a silent conversation over chocolate milkshakes and salty French fries and life is good.

Life is real good.

“Can we just leave them?”

“No, Minho.” Harriet chides him before sighing, “We need Thomas’s car.”

* * *

Once Valentines Day comes, it only ends up taking the six an hour to set everything up. Teresa and Sonya’s “Popping Party Playlist” blares from the speakers above the TV as they all sing at the top of their lungs while hanging streamers, taping red hearts to the walls, and setting up the food.

After they’ve finished those menial tasks, the girls escape to the bathroom to begin applying their make-up and fixing their hair. Loud giggles travel down the hallway to the living room where the boys lie on their backs and stare at the TV.

“How long do you think it’s going to take them to get ready?” Minho asks, his eyes glued to the football game on television.

Thomas shrugs, his own eyes not leaving the tube in front of them. “Probably hours. T used to take forever when we went to high school formal stuff.”

“Sonya spent days in the bathroom, I swear.”

“So what are we supposed to do?”

They each look at each other for a moment before Thomas suggests, "I guess we could do something productive."

"Like what?"

"Make sure the ice doesn't melt?"

In the end, they begin to drift off and it feels like only seconds have passed when suddenly Sonya’s voice is _loud_ in Thomas’s ear, “Wake-up, sunshine!”

There is no sunshine to be seen when Thomas’s eyes flutter open, as the sun has completely set and only darkness fades through the window blinds.

Sonya Newton might be a human ray of sunshine, however, Thomas starts to think. Her golden blonde hair has been curled into fancy ringlets and she’s wearing simple make-up, but enough to illuminate her pretty face. Her red dress is stunning on her slim figure and Thomas thinks she could be _glowing_ and that it’s been too long since he’s seen her look so radiant.

“Sonya, you look beautiful!” He tells her and stands up to give her a hug. He’s unaware of the way her smile falls from her face but when he pulls back from her, she looks as brilliant as a diamond in his eyes. 

“Thanks Thomas,” She says quietly, shyly not meeting his eyes. She turns to the other boys and slaps them on their shoulders. “Wake up! You need to get ready!”

Teresa comes into his view and she’s in her favorite white halter dress and gladiator sandals. She could’ve been a Greek goddess, for all he knew, and her crystal blue eyes shine as she comes closer. “What do you think?”

“You look perfect. As always.”

“Ugh, wait until you see Harriet. Her cat eye is on _point,_ tonight. If she doesn’t get laid, there’s no hope for the rest of us.”

“I have your mother on speed dial, you heathen.”

Teresa simply winks at him before going to drag Minho off of the couch. “Minho, _your_ party starts in twenty minutes and you're not even dressed!”

Harriet is just as gorgeous as Teresa described her to be. Her curly brown hair creates a halo around her face, where her make-up has been intricately done to perfection. She’s wearing a gold dress, deviating from the typical red and white color theme of the night, and black pumps, almost pushing her to Thomas’s height.

“How do I look?”

“Fine, fresh, fierce, you got it on lock.”

Harriet tips her head back and laughs. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

* * *

According to sources who had been to Minho’s freshmen year party (everyone but Thomas and Newt), the turnout was a little lower than expected. It appeared that Gally had promised his guests a _live_ DJ, goodie bags, and an actual meal, which apparently was a little more enticing than classy wine and pizza.

“You know what?” Minho says as the six of them crowd around the kitchen table, the first time they’ve regrouped since the start of the party. “I had a damn good time planning this party with you all. Doesn’t matter if Gally won. I won some of the best friends I could ever have.”

“Are you drunk?” A drunken Thomas blurts out.

Teresa, slightly tipsy herself, hits his arm. “Tom! Be sentimental for a moment. This is so sweet.”

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Minho.” Harriet remarks, a bit inebriated herself. “But I agree. I had a really good time planning this party with you all.”

Sonya’s smile is bright and cheery and intoxicated. “Thanks for getting me out of my slump. You’re all the bees knees!”

She goes around, trying to kiss them all on the cheek, tripping over herself and their feet in the process. Everyone’s giggling and having such a damn good time that it doesn’t matter some of the guests are trickling out the door to head to the party two blocks over.

Thomas finds Brenda in the crowd almost twenty minutes and three beers later, her once cropped hair falling onto her shoulders. 

“You look great!” Brenda says loudly, to carry her voice over the music.

“So do you!” Thomas shouts back in response. “How’s the internship downtown going?”

“Great!” Brenda says with a toothy grin. She drunkenly beckons someone over and Alby Einstein suddenly appears at her side. “Thomas, I’d like to introduce you to Alby. I know you’ve already met, but now you’re meeting him as my boyfriend!”

Thomas shakes Alby’s hand formally, despite the laugh he’s trying to hold in, and holds up one finger, signaling them to wait. He goes and pulls Newt away from the person he’d been talking to and wraps his arm around his shoulder. “Hey Brenda! I’d like to introduce you to Newt. I know you’ve already met, but now you’re meeting him as _my_ boyfriend!”

Newt looks at him like he’s decided to go skinny dipping in the Charles River in Boston, but Brenda simply throws her head back and laughs. “Finally! Took you two long enough!”

Newt smiles at her before she and Alby walk away and whispers into Thomas’s ear, “This party’s getting a bit dull, don’t you think?”

Thomas did not necessarily think that but the way Newt’s hand was traveling up his side made him reevaluate his thoughts. “Sure!”

“Follow me?” Newt asks as if he really needs to ask. Thomas would probably follow Newt off a cliff if he so blinked his eyes.

They don’t travel very far - just into the bedroom they unofficially share - and Newt quietly closes the door behind them, blocking out the sound of inebriated adults in the living room.

“Look under your bed.” Thomas tells him with a sleepy, drunk smile as he proceeds to lie on top of the bed.

He can see Newt’s frown - Newt’s _adorable_ frown - all the way from his position, but the English boy still obliges. He bends down and reaches underneath the bed, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box.

Thomas watches him carefully tear open the wrapping and discard the paper on the floor. Newt looks up at Thomas briefly before gingerly opening the box and gasping. 

“Happy Valentines Day, love,” Thomas says quietly, sitting up.

Newt laughs lightly, holding up the content of the box. “Tommy, this is a _seventy five dollar_ gift card to Crank Palace!”

Thomas shrugs, his smile widening to the point where his cheeks started to throb. “Seventy five dollars of fun and childhood memories. What could be better?”

“You.”

“Well we _all_ know that.”

“I’m sure you do,” Newt says softly, a chuckle coating his lips. He comes to closer to Thomas, perched on the bed and asks quietly, “Are you ready for your present?”

“You are my present.” Thomas says, his eyes fluttering as he touches his forehead with Newt’s. “You are the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

“So,” Newt drags the word out, as his hands wrap around Thomas’s waist, “does that mean you’ll tell me about your first girlfriend?”

“ _Newt_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this was more of a sappy, newtmas filler than anything but i really enjoyed writing their chemistry and bringing the WHOLE squad together that this was more for my own benefit.
> 
> again, this chapter went in a complete different direction than i thought it was going to and i wasn't too sure i was completely happy with it (aka the slow update). i don't normally write a lot of happy relationships in the honeymoon phase so i'm very critical about this, but i'm going to go for it and hope it warmed all of your newtmas hearts - especially with the TDC movie delay!!
> 
> three more chapters left!! thanks for sticking around y'all. as in the wise words of sonya newton, you're the bees knees. xx


	17. Spring Breakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want you to help me convince the others that to go to Punta Cana for Spring Break.”
> 
> Thomas snorts at first, and then bursts into hysterical laughter. The librarian shushes him immediately, but his laughter still erupts in sporadic hiccups. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”
> 
> “So you’re in?”
> 
> “Hell no!"
> 
> or where the gang takes a special trip to punta cana for spring break and thomas begins to see the world and his friends in a new light. {march}

“Hey, Newt, do you -oh my _God,_ my eyes!”

Thomas and Newt quickly scramble away from each other, cheeks flushed and tongues stuttering. Newt flattens out his shirt, speedily zips up his pants, before turning towards his intrusive sister, “May I help you?”

Sonya shielded her eyes the moment she walked - no, _barged_ \- into Newt’s bedroom, and dares to take a peak at the situation before her. Poor, red-faced Thomas can’t stop thinking about how much he wants to jump out the window into the crisp and breezy March air.

“I _was_ going to ask if you wanted to come shopping for a gift for Mum with me, but I see you’re busy.”

An itchy silence falls over the room, and Thomas still wants to jump out the window.

Newt turns to him, his mouth already forming an apology, before a small smile falls over Thomas’s face. He puts his finger on Newt’s lips and says, “Go ahead, it’s okay. I have to create a ten minute presentation on how to fix Greece’s economy that’s due tomorrow. If you’re gone, I might actually get something done.”

Newt rolls his eyes but smirks. “Well, _we_ were getting something done. Are you going to stay here?”

“Maybe. I might even go to that place on campus that has shelves full of expensive textbooks with all the information that I need in a quiet setting. What's it called? Oh right, a library! You should go there some time.”

“Oh, stop being such a smart arse.” Newt bites his lip to hide a smile. He grabs his jacket off the nightstand behind him and presses a quick kiss to Thomas’s cheek. “I’ll see you later, love. And when I’m back, I can pay _extra_ special attention to your -“

“ _Newt_!” Sonya exclaims, her hands traveling to her ears instead. “I can _hear_ you!”

“I forgot about her for a moment,” Newt murmurs. He kisses Thomas once more before disappearing out the door, bickering with his embarrassed sister.

Slowly, Thomas starts to think this is what love must feel like.

* * *

“I have an idea.”

“No,” Thomas immediately says, thumbing through the pages in his textbook.

Minho’s jaw drops. “I haven’t even said what it is yet!”

“The last time you had a supposedly amazing idea, I ended up with food poisoning. So again, no.”

“I promise I won’t ask you to drink spoiled milk and pink steak when you’re drunk again,” Minho says casually, as if the memory of Thomas hurling all over the apartment wasn’t even slightly traumatizing. “I just need your help.”

This grabs Thomas’s attention. He looks up from the page he’s reading in relief, “You’re having trouble with the presentation? I have fifteen slides filled with bullshit information that barely adds up to two minutes -“

“Fuck the presentation, I finished that two weeks ago,” Minho waves his hand in the air. “This is something that is going to define us for the rest of our lives.”

“You finished your presentation _two_ weeks ago?!” Thomas asks, confused by how Minho could have finished such a feat. 

“Damn it Thomas, forget about the fucking presentation - you, out of all people, are sure as hell not going to save Greece.”

“Are you sweet-talking me because you’ll think it’ll make me say yes to your ridiculous idea?”

“I want you to help me convince the others that to go to Punta Cana for Spring Break.”

Thomas snorts at first, and then bursts into hysterical laughter. The librarian shushes him immediately, but his laughter still erupts in sporadic hiccups. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

“So you’re in?”

“Hell no!"

* * *

 

Yet somehow, two weeks later at 5:30am on a Tuesday morning, Thomas finds himself sitting between Newt and Sonya on a JetBlue flight to Punta Cana.

“I can’t believe he convinced us to go to Punta Cana for Spring Break,” Thomas mutters as the plane starts to depart from the gate.

Newt’s close to snoring, his sleeping head leaning on Thomas’s shoulder. Across the aisle, Harriet’s sleeping figure is pressed against the window. 

Sonya, the only other awake passenger on their Jet Blue flight, sighs in agreement. “I can’t believe he and Teresa convinced us to go and pay for the trips with our credit cards while we were drunk.”

“Dick move. I’ll kill him when we get there.”

Sonya musters up a tired smile. “Don’t be mad, Thomas. Think about it this way - we get to spend eight days in paradise with our best friends. What more could we ask for?”

“Money to pay rent this month? Money to save up for our future so that when we graduate college we’re not broke, young-adults, with no prospective futures? Oh wait, we _had_ money until Minho decided we're all going to Punta Cana.”

Sonya sighs again. “At least you’re not burdened with student loans.”

“So _please_ tell me again, Sonya, why this trip was a good idea?”

“To spend quality time together?” Sonya suggests after a moment and the plane takes flight.

“We could spend quality time together at home. At the bar. At a baseball game - all of which, might I remind you, do not cost almost $2,500? Sonya, not all of us, have our parents’ wallet at the tips of our fingers to spend this kind of money.”

“I feel like that’s a subtle dig at Minho.”

“I feel like you’re right.”

“Oh don’t be so hard on him. You’ll appreciate this in eight days time, when we’ve all had the most amazing margaritas and skinny dipping experiences.”

Thomas looks at her curiously. “You seem awfully defensive of him.”

Sonya raises her eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“You have a crush on him.”

Sonya’s eyes bulge out of her forehead and if she wasn’t awake earlier, she sure is now. “ _Sorry_?”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s perfectly -“

“Oh no, I’m afraid you've misunderstood me as I've misunderstood you. You think _I_ fancy _Minho_?”

Despite Sonya’s visible shudder, Thomas thinks back to that time three months ago when she first announced the news that nearly shattered all of their worlds. He remembers Minho’s softness in demeanor towards her, how he showed her a kindness Thomas never saw in him.

He chooses to keep this information to himself, as Minho made him swear to keep the secret of his crush. “Do you?”

“Are you knackered? Bloody hell, of _course_ not! Thomas, Minho is literally my older brother. He’s practically related to me! Even though, he’s not. It’s just, well, weird. It’d be like dating Newt.” Sonya visibly shudders and turns to Harriet. “If I were into girls and dated Harriet, that would also be like dating Newt. It’s because they’re like family, I’ve known them for so long.”

Thomas takes this into consideration, silently hoping Minho won’t be too heartbroken by this confession. He decides to think about the duty of telling him later - he shouldn’t be the one to ruin Minho’s trip to paradise.

“Am I like family to you?” Thomas dares to ask. It’s almost 6am in the morning and he’s only gotten three hours of sleep, thanks to Newt’s easily distracted mind and over-active sex drive and the fact that he had put off packing until the very last minute. It’s almost 6am in the morning but Sonya has become the kind of sister-friend Teresa is to him, and lately he’s been wondering if the feeling is mutual.

Sonya blushes and hesitantly connects their eyes together, for a moment, before looking at her brother. “Do you really have to ask?”

Thomas figures he could probably guess her answer. He should stop the interrogation right there - the last time he was in this sort of situation, it didn’t end so well.

Decisions shouldn’t be made at 6am in the morning, when a sleep-deprived Thomas is almost 30,000 feet in the air. But Thomas does it anyways, “Kind of.”

The words are right off the tip of her tongue. “If you didn’t fancy my brother, then I would sure hope you weren't like family to me.”

* * *

“Welcome to paradise!” Minho exclaims as the four of them walk out of their gate, almost four hours later. He’s got on cargo khakis, a floral-print button up, and thick black sandals. Teresa follows behind him, dressed in a similar patterned dress and her favorite white sandals.

They look disgustingly happy, tan, and awake. The two had decided to fly out to Punta Cana a day earlier than the rest of the gang to “check out the hotel and night scene”.

Newt rubs his eyes and yawns loudly. “Did you bring me coffee?”

“Or vodka?” Harriet asks, in the midst of an equally as loud yawn.

“Nope!” Teresa says, far too cheerfully. “But get _this_ \- the hotel has a free minibar! And we’re all legal here, even baby Tom!”

Thomas rolls his eyes and pushes Newt gently on his back to keep him moving at a reasonable pace. “Shut up.”

“Please tell me you rung a taxi,” Sonya pleads.

“The sun is bright out and the birds are chirping, dear one,” Minho says brightly as he wraps an arm around Sonya’s shoulders. Thomas looks away to snap his fingers in front of his boyfriend’s face, who looks far too close to falling asleep as they're moving. “We’re going to walk!”

This finally wakes Newt up. “Sorry?”

“Why are you apologizing?” Teresa asks, with a frown, as they approach the baggage claim. 

Thomas can almost mouth the words alongside Newt, “I’m afraid you've misunderstood me as I've misunderstood you - we’re _what_?”

“Yes, they did say that dreaded word.” Harriet affirms, rolling her eyes. “We’re _walking_ back to the hotel.”

“Quit complaining, you babies.” Minho chides them, pointing to Newt’s obnoxious bright green and orange suitcase rolling past them on the baggage claim. Newt slowly blinks twice before Thomas sighs and reaches out for it. “It’s a five minute walk. You’ll live.”

It was not a five minute walk.

Forty-eight sweaty and grueling minutes later, the gang approached the student villa Minho and Teresa had so graciously booked two weeks prior, hot and exhausted.

The two travel birds were overly enthusiastic about the rest of the gang arriving but seemed to have no plans in helping them get their luggage up to the fourteenth floor. “Meet us down here when you’re done.” Minho orders them, as he and Teresa orders strawberry vodkas.

Harriet cut her eyes at them. “Don’t we have the greatest friends, ever?”

“They’re the bees knees,” Sonya rolls her eyes as they all try to cram themselves in the elevator. “Are we all going to fit or should we push Newt out of the lift?” 

In response, Newt kicks Sonya’s suitcase, sending it toppling out of the “lift” and into the hallway. Sonya gasps and tries to reach for it, Harriet’s suitcase blocking her body, but the elevator doors nearly clamp her hand.

“ _Newt_!”

Newt looks at her, completely unapologetic. “Oops.”

“You’re a fucking twat.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Guys,” Harriet and Thomas try to intervene, but the Newtons are having none of it.

“Why are you such an arse? Go back down and get my fucking luggage!”

“Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”

“Newt!”

“Sonya!”

“You are both adults!” Harriet exclaims, pushing the two of them away from each other. “Cut the childish shit and suck it up that you’re both exhausted and groggy after a four hour plane ride at six in the morning. After Newt takes the _elevator_ \- you’re in America, Sonya, get the terminology right - back downstairs to bring Sonya’s suitcase back up, we’re all going to go back down tp meet up with our asshole friends and eat a bomb breakfast. Understood?”

“Yes, mum,” Sonya and Newt mutter unhappily, folding their arms over their chests and turning away from each other.

And as the two siblings sulk in their respective corners and Harriet rolls her eyes like an aggravated mom, Thomas begins to see the family Minho, Sonya, Newt, and Harriet had made for themselves. And maybe this family isn’t _exactly_ how Sonya wishes it would be with Thomas and Teresa included, but he’s beginning to understand why Minho convinced them all to go to Punta Cana.

* * *

 

The first day is remarkably uneventful, as the four who had just traveled in that morning were too tired to do any real partying. 

They spent that first day at the beach, tanning and pushing each other in the water. Four hours after they’d arrived and their skin had prickled like prunes, Sonya and Thomas had pushed past the awkwardness of the morning and were busy building sand castles.

“No, _mine_ is the best one.”

“Mine is! Yours looks like a demented minger!”

“What the fuck is that?”

Sonya shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s English for my sand castle is kicking your arse.”

“Ass, Sonya, _ass._ We’re in America!”

“Respect other cultures. Your country is a real shit show.”

“You mean like your sand castle?”

Newt and Teresa end up voting for Thomas’s castle, while the other traitors think Sonya’s has a bit more “flair”.

The next day is slightly more productive, even though Thomas and Newt accidentally miss breakfast.

Minho looks at them in annoyance and disbelief as they quickly rush out of the elevator. “Seriously? You couldn’t even pretend you weren’t hooking up? Let’s go before these two decide to do it in public next time.”

Teresa shakes her head as she points to the slightly purple bruise forming on Newt’s neck, while Sonya pretends to throw up.

They split up into pairs and travel around the region, exploring the different food markets and the best bars. Minho had ordered Thomas and Newt to be split up, so Thomas spends most of the second day with Harriet.

They have silly photoshoots around the city with Harriet's pastel-pink, polaroid camera and buy souvenirs for their folks back home. Somehow in the midst of buying gifts for their family, Harriet talks Thomas into buying a penis-shaped flask.

In return, he convinces her to buy the most expensive box of chocolates they see a small convenience market, that renders her almost broke for the day. By the time they make it to the street fair the gang decided to meet up at, almost five minutes later, the box is nearly finished.

The following days are spent similarly like that - the group breaking up into smaller groups and venturing around before meeting up for a wild party, a fancy meal, or a street festival. Thomas’s former complaints about being a broke-ass college student are quickly forgotten as one night he and Teresa humor themselves by flimsily throwing one dollar bills at strippers.

They’re at a cheap bar and the food is mediocre and the alcohol tastes suspiciously like soda water, but the entertainment is what drew the crew in. Sonya finds herself shamelessly flirting with a cute local, who has her forgetting Ben Sheffield ever existed by the end of the night. Harriet, Minho, and Newt have engaged another group of broke-ass college students in a drinking game that will end up with the other three dragging them back to the hotel.

Thomas and Teresa break away to the stage where multiple young college women have decided to strip their clothing and dance promiscuously to the horrendous Top 40 blasting from the speakers.

“I’m glad we came Tom,” Teresa yells in his ear. “Are you having a great time?”

He’s having a fan-fucking-tastic great time. He’s just about to tell her this when he notices the look of actual concern on her face. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing! It’s just - you know,”

He doesn’t know.

He raises an eyebrow and she cocks her head in the direction of the young women on stage. “Wouldn’t you prefer they had dicks? We can go somewhere else.”

Thomas has to take a couple moments to comprehend the words that have come out of her mouth before he tips his head back and laughs.

Teresa looks bewildered before he scratches the back of his neck and hopes his cheeks aren’t turning scarlet. “Is this your way of asking me if I’m gay?”

Now Teresa’s cheeks have a bit of color in them. “You’re my best friend. I don't want to assume anything.”

He shrugs and he looks at his boyfriend across the room, who’s egging Minho on to chug down a can of beer. He’s quite aware of the fact Newt’s the first boy he's has ever been seriously involved with and he’s never once brought up the issue of his sexuality with Teresa.

The thing was, Thomas never _worried_ about Newt’s gender. Not even when he first began to suspect he had a crush on the Peter Pan look alike or even when they drunkenly had sex the first time they spent Spring Break together. It wasn’t something that crossed his mind and no one else had questioned his sexuality even when they knew about his blossoming feelings for Newt. Newt's lack of a vagina was never a problem, so Thomas never ruled out a possibility of himself being attracted to boys.

But Brenda was never a cover or a false pretense. He really did have genuine feelings for Brenda and he really did think during their six month anniversary, two weeks before they broke up, that they were going to last a good long time. 

And it wasn’t just Brenda he was attracted to. He’d been attracted to the two girls he dated in high school. When he first met Sonya, he’d almost entertained the thought of being attracted to her (the irony is that she resembles so much of her brother he can’t really tell if he was attracted to _her_ or her appearance). And he can appreciate how beautiful crystal blue-eyed Teresa looks tonight in her fitted black dress and gold gladiator sandals.

So no. No, he’s not gay, exactly. But what is he?

Teresa takes all of this in like the champion she is and thinks for a moment. “But, do you _have_ to be something? Can’t you, just, like who you want to like without having to be gay or straight?”

Thomas sighs and their attention has been completely diverted away from the strippers and remains solely on each other. “So bisexual.”

“I mean, sure, but do you really have to label yourself? For all I care, you’re Thomas Greene. You’re my best friend. Always have been, always will be. You’re going to be an Economics major and the future president of the World Bank. Does it really matter who you like?”

Granted, they’re not as wasted as Newt, Minho, or Harriet are, but Thomas has never felt happier to be sober. He leans over and hugs Teresa, his favorite person in the entire world, and thanks God that at least some things never change.

“I don’t want it to.”

“So then don’t let it!” Teresa exclaims, pulling away and putting her hands on his shoulders. Her blue eyes stare into his brown ones as she says, “You are you and who you love is not all of who you are. You are Thomas and that’s all you have to be. Don't worry about a label, okay? Date Newt, date girls, date anyone you fucking want. Just be you throughout it all.”

They lean in for another hug and Thomas has just finished whispering, “Thank you, T, for everything”, a simple sentence of five words that says everything Thomas needs to say, when they hear someone violently throwing up in the background.

Thomas wishes he could be surprised when he sees it’s Minho.

“How charming.” Teresa sighs before standing up. “I’ll walk him back to the hotel.”

It’s not a look of dejection he sees in her eyes. It’s more tender and more affectionate than Thomas would like to see.

“Hey T, I can take him back if you want. You stay and have fun.” He suggests, carefully studying her face.

Teresa shrugs and pulls her purse over her shoulder. “Ah, don’t worry about me. You stay and have fun with your boyfriend. Call me when you get back, okay?”

* * *

“Do you think Minho and Teresa have a thing for each other?”

Newt sleepily blinks a few times, before accidentally releasing a huge yawn. “Well, good morning to you too.”

Thomas is staring at the ceiling the morning after, mindlessly curling the sheets around his finger. “It’s preposterous, right?”

Newt had just closed his eyes again and makes a humming sound.

Thomas looks over at him and pokes him in his shoulder. “Newt,” he drags out his name.

Newt shakes his head and turns over on his side, away from Thomas. “More sleep.”

A small smile curls over Thomas’s lips before he pokes him again. “C’mon, babe, wake up. Please?”

Newt pretends to snore in response.

Thomas runs his finger directly down Newt’s bare spine, causing him to thrash a bit. “Tommy, you _know_ I’m ticklish!”

Thomas snorts. “That’s why I did it, genius. Wake up,”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 8.”

Newt rolls over on his side, facing Thomas in disbelief. “You bloody moron, go back to sleep!”

“We can’t!” Thomas protests, continuing to poke Newt’s side as the latter tries to fall back asleep. “We’re supposed to meet the others downstairs for breakfast in twenty minutes. We _can’t_ be late this time or else we’ll miss the surfing contest at the beach. Remember?”

Newt sleepily murmurs something that sounds a lot similar to “fuck surfing” but reluctantly rolls back on his side to face Thomas. He looks up at the brown-haired boy through his tired eyelids and yawns, “Don’t I get a good morning kiss?”

Thomas struggles to fight back an affectionate smile. “No, because you won’t wake up _and_ because you haven’t brushed your teeth this morning.”

Newt rolls his eyes. “Fine, then I won’t get up. And we’ll be late again and I’ll blame it on you for not being able to resist me.”

Thomas outright snorts. “You’re such a child.”

“And you have no objections to sleeping with me, so does that make you a pedophile?”

“Newt!”

“Tommy!”

“Newt, _stop_!” Thomas tries to scold him, but ends up miserably failing and laughing. Whenever Newt’s got his lips pressed to Thomas’s neck, all hopes of maintaining a serious demeanor fly out the window.

“Look, if we don’t go _now_ , we’re not going to go down in time and Minho’s going to kill us.”

“It’s kind of a turn-off, Tommy, when you say another man’s name as I’m about to give you a -“

“ _Newt_!”

“This won’t even take me two minutes. I promise, my love, we’ll be downstairs before the others and Minho won’t have a word to say.”

It doesn’t take Newt two minutes because that boy has no self-control. By the time Newt and Thomas have composed themselves enough to look and decent and make an appearance downstairs, the four others have left them a note.

_Newtmas -_

_We waited forty minutes and were forced to carry on our adventures without you horny motherfuckers (Minho wrote that!!!!). When we return back tonight, we expect classy, expensive wine and fried chicken._

_\- Your bored, poor, and single friends._

“I could think of worse ways to spend our next to last day in Punta Cana.” Newt says, wiggling his eyebrows back to the elevator.

Thomas looks at him in mild concern. “Were you always this horny with Harriet?”

Newt frowns and almost shudders. “No. But thanks for bringing that up. On the topic of ex-girlfriends, are you finally going to tell me about your first?”

“Not after this little stunt. Anyways, I have to keep you around somehow, don’t I?”

“I hate you.”

“That’s definitely why you were _pleading_ to fuck me earlier -“

“Thomas!” Newt exclaims, suddenly bashful and looking around. “There are _families_ here!”

* * *

The next night, when they’re flying back home on another red-eye because it’s tradition at this point, still very drunk - Thomas gazes out the window at the ant people below him.

He wonders how many people are holding their lover’s hand at that moment. He wonders how many of them have to do this as an act of bravery or as a statement, to prove that even though their sexual orientation is different, they’re still equal human beings.

_I could be one of those people_ , Thomas thinks to himself, with his boyfriend’s hand clasped in his. _I could be one of those ant people below, without the love and support I have from people like T and my mom and even Officer Tommy._

But he’s not. And even though he’s 30,000 feet up in the air, trapped in an airborne, man-made machine that could come hurtling down to the ground at any given moment, sending him to his immediate death - he feels safer than he’s ever been.

And he prays silently for those who can’t even get into a nightclub to celebrate who they are without fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry for this late update :( i don't even have an excuse. my mental health has not been at its best and with recent events this weekend, getting a chapter up was real hard.
> 
> for those of you who don't know, there was a mass shooting (the worst in American history) at an Orlando nightclub (a gay nightclub). 50 people were killed. all because of their sexual orientation. honestly, how fucked up is that? (and my angel christina grimmie was murdered this weekend at a meet and greet for her concert and i'm taking it very hard)
> 
> i originally never planned to address the ambiguity of thomas or newt's sexuality because i believe what teresa said - you DON'T need to label yourself because of who you like. while that's an important part of you, it doesn't mean it's all of you. we need to practice more tolerance in this world and i hope literature (even fanfiction) can start important dialogue like this. after this weekend, it's extremely important we start having conversations about tolerance and stricter gun legislation.
> 
> i want to say i'll have a chapter up soon (considering this story is nearing its end) but i hope you all understand this weekend has been very hard. i love each and every one of you, and i hope you all know how much i value your time and commitment to my story. thank you angels


	18. Are You Still Having Fun?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You give me anxiety.” Harriet says shaking her head, rubbing her temples with her fingers. “This plan gives me anxiety. Hell, my anxiety is giving me anxiety.”
> 
> “Relax,” Thomas tells her. “It’s all going to work out.”
> 
> or where newt turns twenty FUN (21)! {may}

“Yeah but what if he hates it?”

“He’s not going to hate it.”

“You don’t know that!”

“And you don’t know that he will hate it!” Teresa groans exasperatedly, as she and Thomas try firing ideas off of each other at the mall. They had been sitting in the food court, plates of hamburgers, french fries, and milkshakes between them for the past hour and Teresa’s patience has slowly diminished.

Thomas sighs and drops his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, T, I just want this to be perfect.”

“And it _will_ be perfect, Tom,” Teresa tries to reassure him. “It’ll be perfect because you orchestrated it from the bottom of your heart.”

Thomas lifts his head briefly to pointedly roll his eyes at her.

“Can you at least tell me why going bowling is an idea he’ll surely hate?”

“He hates bowling!” Thomas exclaims, as if this is common knowledge. “The last time he went when he was younger, some bully in London dropped one of those heavy adult balls on him - oh my God, Teresa, _grow up_.”

“Okay, okay, keep going,” Teresa commands, covering her mouth to hide her giggles.

“And he’s hated it ever since.”

“That’s lame. Why didn’t he chuck it right back at the beast?”

“Because not everyone was a vicious savage, like you, at age seven.”

“Vicious savage? Is that what I get for pushing Donald Greer over the slide to defend your ass after he’d called you an ugly turtle?”

Thomas chuckles at the memory. “How about when you threw mud at Gigi - when you were _twelve_ \- because she said you weren’t a real girl?”

“I was sensitive and I am a real girl.” Teresa sniffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

Thomas grabs her arm over the table and pleads, “Help me, T. I have honestly _no_ idea what to do for Newt’s surprise party.”

“Do you _have_ to throw him a surprise party?”

“Yes. It’s tradition.”

Teresa sighs and shrugs. “Well, I really don’t know how you’re going to do better than the stripper in the birthday cake. That was priceless. You should’ve waited until this year to do it.”

“So then what would I have done last year?” Thomas challenges.

“Good point.” Teresa bites her lip, looking pensive for a moment. “I’ve got it! You can take him to the beach.”

Thomas waits for her to finish. When it appears that was the extent of her idea, Thomas frowns. “Teresa, _that’s_ lame. After last year, I have to above and beyond. Beyond the fucking moon.”

“Well the beach is fun. And it’s warm. And I can perfect my tan. It’s not lame, you are.” Teresa says, absentmindedly staring the golden skin on her arms.

Thomas stares at his cold, French fries. “I’m screwed.”

* * *

 

On May 3rd, 13 days before Newt’s 21st birthday, Thomas is starting to feel the panic set in. He tries to enlist Sonya and Harriet for help, who end up being useless. They’re too preoccupied by two Italian twins who had transferred to their campus for the spring semester.

“Is this flirty? Should I be flirty back?” Harriet asks, hunched over her phone in the boys’ apartment. “Like, is he asking me out on a date or not?”

Thomas lifts his head in frustration from his crossed arms on the counter. “You should help me plan Newt’s birthday party this year, like you promised.”

“Stop being such a big baby, we’ll help you in a minute.” Sonya tells him, not paying him any mind as she compares text messages with Harriet.

“You promised me that fifteen minutes ago,” Thomas says uselessly.

“Thomas, if this boy is asking me what’s my favorite TV show - does that mean he wants to Netflix and chill?” Harriet frowns.

Thomas tries very hard to refrain from rolling his eyes. “I’m sure he just wants to know what your favorite -“

“Oh my God, he just asked me if it’s on Netflix!” Harriet shrieks, jumping up from her spot on the counter. “See you guys later, I have to go make myself beautiful!”

She already looked very pretty, in Thomas’s opinion, her wild curls bouncing behind her as she practically skips out the door. Newt had just been on his way inside when Harriet nearly runs into him.

“What’s her deal?” He asks, staring the now closed door as if it would give him answers.

“She’s going to Netflix and chill with an Italian boy.” Thomas explains.

This catches Newt’s attention. He turns to Thomas, a suggestive look on his face.

Thomas bites back a smile and rolls his eyes as Newt comes closer. “Hi.”

“Hi back.” Newt says, pressing their lips together slowly. “I missed you.”

“Missed you more. How was your day?”

“Hideous without you,” Newt says, entwining their fingers together and leaning on the counter. “I was thinking, later tonight, you and I could -“

“I’m still here!” Sonya announces loudly, much to the annoyance of her brother. She had finally torn her eyes away from her precious cell phone.

“Yeah, how about you change that?” Newt asks impatiently, before frowning. “Wait, why are you here?”

Behind Newt’s back, Thomas’s eyes shoot wide open and he waves his hands wildly in the air, hoping to get his “Please for the love of God don’t tell Newt why you’re here” message across.

Sonya sighs. “Harriet and I were bored. We wanted to talk to Thomas about Giovanni and Stefano.”

Newt raises his eyebrow.

“Those new Italian boys on campus I was telling you about?” Sonya reminds him, her voice as impatient as her brother’s. “God, Newt, do you listen to anything that’s not Thomas? You two are bloody sickening.”

Thomas raises his hands in mock surrender, only mildly relieved to have the topic averted. “Don’t drag me into this.”

“Well anyways, since my birthday is next Saturday and you’re unfortunately my sister and only family I have around here, I was thinking we could go out to breakfast or something. If you wanted to.” Newt suggests, ignoring her last comment. He fiddles with his hands.

Sonya quickly peeks over Newt’s shoulder to Thomas, who shrugs and nods his head, trying not to mourn the fact he can’t come up with a suitable birthday party idea for his boyfriend.

“Of course I will, brother dearest!” Sonya exclaims, throwing her arms around him and kissing his cheek as he makes faces at her. “It’ll be your best birthday yet, don’t you worry.”

Newt isn’t the one who has to worry.

* * *

 

On May 6th, 10 days before Newt’s birthday, Thomas still has no plan for Newt’s birthday and is very close to not having any lungs.

He had asked Minho, who was about to go for a run, what should he do. The other boy simply shrugged and told him, “Fuck him. In the actual way, not figuratively.”

Thomas’s cheeks turned crimson but he still followed Minho around the apartment, trying desperately to get some kind of an idea out of him.

Minho finally grew tired of him. “Dear God, Thomas, you’re driving me insane. Come for a run with me and then I’ll help you decide.”

Despite both of their respectable positions on the track team earlier that year, Minho’s version of running was Thomas’s idea of suicide.

After they had been running for an hour and a half - Minho had been keeping up a rapid pace and Thomas was starting to see stars - they finally came to a halt in a park Thomas had never seen before.

“Thomas, can I, uh, can I ask you something?”

Thomas is too busy being hunched over and trying not to throw up everything he has in his system to notice Minho’s surprisingly unconfident demeanor. He wheezes out, “I think I might be dying. Please call 911.”

Minho sighs and sits down on a bench, making Thomas sit down next to him. “Do you remember when I told you I think I have a crush on someone?”

“You have a crush on Sonya.” Thomas says absentmindedly, wondering why the world still seems to be spinning.

“Excuse me?”

“You do, don’t you? That’s why you wouldn’t tell me at first because I would’ve told Newt -“

“So it is now confirmed I am never telling you anything again.”

“- And he would’ve told Sonya, because she’s his sister and that’s why you were afraid. Because she’s your best friend’s sister and that just doesn’t mix.” Thomas mutters, his words spilling out of his mouth without his brain processing them. All he’s really concerned with is how he’s going to get off this damn bench and revive himself with water.

“Thomas, that’s exactly why I could _never_ like Sonya!” Minho exclaims as if he’s offended by this accusation. He animatedly jumps up from the bench and Thomas lies down on the bench. “She’s practically my own sister - I could never even _think_ of being attracted to her. Do you know she video chatted _me_ the morning she got her first period? What kind of freak does that?”

Thomas frowns, momentarily distracted. “Why did she video chat _you_?”

“Because she thought it would be hilarious to show me her brand new tampons.” Minho makes a face, recoiling at the memory. “Can’t you see she’s psycho?”

_But if Minho didn’t like Sonya and Sonya didn’t like Minho…that meant Thomas’s suspicions were right and Minho most definitely had a crush on -_

“Who do you have a crush on?” Thomas asks very slowly, lifting his head up off of the bench. 

Minho hesitates for a moment before pausing. “Remember that I said I have actual genuine feelings for this girl?”

Thomas nods, his heartbeat slowing down to an irregular pace. This could not be good for his health.

“I, uh, I have a crush on -“

“Teresa.” Thomas finishes for him, trying not to cringe. “My best friend, Teresa Agnes.”

Thomas can hear the silence envelop them, shrouding their sweaty shoulders in an itchy blanket. All around the park, joggers kept jogging, mothers kept mothering, babies kept hollering, the world kept spinning.

No one else had heard the confession Minho had made. No one else’s ears had been scorched by the sound of Minho telling Thomas he has a crush on the latter’s best friend.

“Do you see why this was nearly impossible to tell you?” Minho asks after about five minutes of pure silence. “Why I couldn’t even bear the thought of even telling you at first? This is like you telling me you want to date Sonya. It’s weird! Yeah sure, she’s not my biological sister but she still feels like one. You feel the same way about Teresa, don’t you? You understand why this is so complicated?”

The only thing Thomas understands is that when he threw Newt his first surprise birthday party, he had walked out onto the catwalk of the boys’ freshmen and sophomore year dorm to find a solemn Minho standing outside.

_Thomas nodded his head as if in agreement but blurted out, “Have you ever been in a serious relationship?”_

_Minho laughed. “Why be serious at 18? You only have four more years of fucking around before you really have to get serious. Why not take advantage of this little time we have left to just have fun?”_

_“You sound just like Newt. Why be adults when we can be kids?”_

_Minho turned around to find Newt, Sonya, Ben, and Harriet having a pillow fight. “Well, maybe that shank is onto something, after all.”_

Sure it’d been two years, but that didn’t mean sentiments changed. Newt is still a child at heart who likes to tickle Thomas awake in the middle of the night because he’s cold . He’s still the child at heart who nearly pushed his sister down a flight of stairs because she threatened to tell their mom he had a D in his Human Geography class. Minho is still a player who likes to get in girls’ pants and break their hearts the next morning.

And after everything he has been through with Teresa this past school year, he owes it to her to protect her from heartbreak. She deserves the sun, the moon, the stars, and the whole damn universe.

Not a night of fleeting lust.

“You can’t be serious about this.” Thomas finally mutters, bringing his unsteady gaze up to Minho’s. 

“How much more serious can I get to prove to you that I really like Teresa, Thomas?”

Despite the fact they had been resting from their suicidal run for about ten minutes now, Thomas still feels ready to cough up his lungs. “I can’t let you break her heart.”

Minho looks offended. “What do you mean you can’t let me? I’m not planning on it.”

“You know, I usually look the other way when you come into class, bragging about your latest exploit. Because they’re not my friends, you are. And if sleeping around the whole campus makes up for the lack of attention your parents give you, then to hell - do what makes you happy. But this is _Teresa_ , we’re talking about here. Not some random girl, she’s my best friend.”

“Who the hell are _you_ to try and diagnose me with “Mommy and Daddy don’t pay me any attention so I’m going to act like a spoiled brat” disorder?!” Minho fires back, anger rising in his almond eyes. “And I know she’s not some random girl, you hypocrite.”

“Hypocrite?!”

Minho rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re currently fucking _my_ best friend, if you haven’t remembered, and you don’t see me raising hell and bringing out your daddy issues.”

Thomas’s cheeks burn, not only with embarrassment over Minho’s crudeness but also for the implication that his and Newt’s relationship is purely sexual. Hadn’t _Minho_ been the one to tell him to go after him? 

“And how do you think I felt when you broke his heart back in December?” Minho reminds him, the fire in his eyes swelling. “When you had to go and make his life a miserable mess while Sonya was currently dealing with that situation we don’t speak of. I still supported you two because I knew that even though you’re morons, you’re good for each other. You make each other happy. So why can’t you step back and realize you messed up your chances with Teresa and let her move on?”

So _that’s_ what this is about. Minho is under the very mistaken impression that he has any sort of romantic feelings for his best friend.

“Minho, I don’t -“ Thomas says, about to correct his friend, before Minho suddenly turns  away from him and back to the direction they had come.

“You know what, Thomas? Forget it. And forget your invite to Newt’s surprise party that _I’m_ going to throw him.”

“Minho, wait!” Thomas yells after him, scrambling to stand up and run after his friend. 

But by the time his lungs threaten to explode and the stars in front of his eyes become brighter, Minho’s already long gone.

* * *

When Thomas gets back to the apartment - almost two hours later - Minho is nowhere in sight.

“You look bloody awful,” Newt greets him as he heaves his way through the door and promptly falls face first onto the floor. “What happened?”

Thomas hasn’t been this out of shape since his freshman year of high school, when he’d discovered how much more enticing Netflix and Nutella were than training for the spring track semester. He rests his weak body on the cold, wooden floor and tries to croak out, “Minho…suicide…run…mad,”

Newt helps Thomas to the couch before getting him a glass of cold water and an ice pack. “Minho stormed in here about a couple hours ago, muttering that you’re a fucking idiot. I, of course, agreed with him but he was absolutely furious. He left a while ago but didn’t tell me where he was going. Did you two fight?”

Thomas doesn’t need a mirror to know that his cheeks are ruby red. After about ten minutes of trying to catch up to Minho, Thomas realized he could possibly die and didn’t want to leave the earth in a fight with one of his best friends. He already feels ashamed for the words that left his mouth, but the idea of having to tell _Newt_ what happened made him want to crawl into a hole and never come back out.

Instead, he turns to the blond and asks, “You know I like you for more than sex, right? Like, sure that part is fun and all -“

Newt raises his eyebrows mischievously. “Just fun?”

“Oh, shut up. I mean, it’s great but I really do like being with you. You know that, right?”

Newt frowns. “Of course I do. What’s this all about?”

Thomas fiddles with his fingers and drinks his water, trying not to meet his eyes. “I might have said something to Minho that I shouldn’t have.”

“I figured that much. What does that have to do with us?”

“Minho implied that our relationship is just physical.” Thomas murmurs, before raising his eyes to meet Newt’s. “It’s not, though. I mean, to me, you’re - well, don’t punch me in the gut - you’re my whole world. And I would _never_ want you to think anything else -“

“As cute as it is to watch you stutter,” Newt interrupts him with a boyish smile, his own cheeks tinted pink, “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Tommy. I love you.”

Thomas freezes for a minute.

The only person he’s ever said “I love you” to without a second thought was his mother. Even saying it to Teresa felt weird because she was a girl and he was a boy and girls had cooties.

But Newt is certainly not a girl and most certainly does not have any cooties he should be worried about it. And there he is, sitting right next to Thomas’s inhumanely sweaty body, telling him he loves him.

The only natural thing his body seems to know how to do is to lean over and capture Newt in a simple, sweet kiss before he feels Newt’s mouth smile against his. “Get away from me, you sweaty bastard. And _please_ take a shower.”

“Only if you get in with me.”

Newt raises his eyebrow as if he’s actually going to pretend to contemplate the offer before Thomas pulls him up off the couch. “ _And_ come with me to my mom’s tonight to have dinner with her and Officer Tommy.”

Newt makes a face. “It really kills the mood when you mention your mother. And her boyfriend, who has the same bloody name as you.”

Thomas simply winks at him. “At least we’ll get out of the house sooner, yeh?”

They don’t _really_ get out of the house sooner.

It’s almost 8:30pm by the time Thomas pulls into his mother’s driveway and she scolds him for being late, causing the food to become cold.

“Goodness, Thomas, if I’d known you weren’t coming until this late in the evening, I would’ve accepted Mrs. Dalloway’s offer to go for a walk!” She chides, pushing him into the kitchen where she points at the steak, rice, vegetables, and fettuccine pasta. “Thomas, you’re in charge of warming all of those up and bringing them to the table. Newt dear, come with me.”

“What? Wait, why?” Thomas’s words trip over his own tongue.

“It’s part of me punishing you. While you’re warming up the food, I’m going to show Newt and Tommy your baby pictures.” Newt’s eyes widen in delight and he maturely sticks his tongue out at Thomas as he follows Claire into the living room.

Thomas grumbles to himself while trying to fit the steak and pasta back into the oven, not hearing Officer Tommy walk into the kitchen.

“Need any help?”

Startled, Thomas jumps back into the sink before trying to recompose himself. “Uh, sure. Thank you.”

“Didn’t mean to startle you. Your mother has shown me your baby pictures plenty of times,” Officer Tommy explains before putting the vegetables into a glass mixing bowl and then into the microwave. 

“Oh dear God.”

Officer Tommy chuckles. “She’s very proud of you, Thomas. And all that you’ve accomplished. You truly are a remarkable young man.”

Thomas’s earlier argument with Minho is still weighing down on him and he most certainly does not feel like a remarkable young man. Throughout his entire fight with Teresa, Minho had stuck by his side the entire time because that’s the kind of person Minho is. And the kind of person Thomas hopes one day he might learn how to be.

“My mom has to think that. But I appreciate your kind words, sir. Being an adult is a lot harder than they tell you.”

The microwave dings and Officer Tommy pulls the bowl of steaming vegetables out, replacing it with a bowl of rice. “Something on your mind?”

He and Officer Tommy are not close friends by _any_ means. Which was the only logical explanation for why he had divulged his guts to his mother’s boyfriend, telling him everything from his fight with Teresa over the previous summer to his horrible confrontation with Minho.

“I know I shouldn’t have said what I said,” Thomas sighs, his head in his hands. “But Teresa’s my best friend and Minho built up a reputation around campus for sleeping with girls and moving on from them the next day. I have a right to be worried, don’t I?”

Officer Tommy opens his mouth to respond, “Well -“

“No, of course, I don’t. I’m not entitled to be the protector of Teresa’s feelings.” Thomas groans, getting up to pace around the kitchen island. “And Minho’s my friend, too. It’s not like he’s exempt from getting hurt if they ever do decide to see each other. Oh my God, why am I such an asshole?”

Officer Tommy watches Thomas to make sure he’s finished ranting. “You know, Thomas, we all make mistakes. Being an adult doesn’t mean you’re going to suddenly grow wise and make the right decisions. You made a mistake and you realize that now, that’s what’s important.”

Newt chooses that moment to poke his head in through the door. “Tommy, your mum wants to know if you’re done yet.”

Both Thomas’s had lifted their heads, color rising to their cheeks once they’d realized to whom Newt was speaking to.

“Tell her we’ll be right out.” Thomas says and Newt nods his head, disappearing back into the living room again.

“The rice and vegetables are ready. You better pull out the steak and pasta to make sure they haven’t burned yet,” Officer Tommy tells Thomas, who suddenly realizes something.

“Officer Tommy, can I ask you for a favor?”

* * *

The next day, minutes before Minho is supposed to come back from his morning run, Thomas is focused on getting Newt out of the apartment. 

“Sonya’s in trouble with our mum? What for?” Newt asks, slowly tying his shoelaces.

Thomas tries to refrain from checking his watch as Newt takes his dear, sweet time. “I think she found Sonya’s fake ID -“

“She did?!” Newt exclaims, jumping up from the couch. “Fucking finally, she realizes Sonya is _not_ an angel like every one in fucking North London believes!”

Newt’s out of the door before Thomas can even think about feeling bad. Minho comes in barely two minutes later.

“What’s blondie’s deal? He was running so fast, I almost thought he was athletic -“ Minho starts to say to Thomas before he remembers they’re not supposed to be on civil terms with each other. Minho starts to storms off towards his room.

“Look, Minho, I’m sorry -“

“Save your shit for someone who cares.”

“Okay, yes I deserve that, but please Minho can I just say sorry?”

Minho stops right outside his bedroom and looks at Thomas expectantly.

“I’m sorry that I accused your, uh, promiscuity as a cause of lack of attention from your parents. That was wrong of me to do  and I’m really sorry I used that against you.”

Minho raises his eyebrows. “Wow. No excuses?”

“I don’t want to hide behind excuses anymore.” Thomas says, fiddling with his hands. “What I did - and said to you - was wrong and you deserve a proper apology. You’re one of my best friends, Minho. You’ve always been on my side, even when I was wrong, and throughout the entire time Teresa and I were fighting. I mean, if you liked her then, then I know how difficult that must’ve been for you and I’m really sorry I was such an asshole.”

Minho’s silent for a moment, thinking to himself, before he lets out a long sigh. “You are an asshole.”

Thomas nods vigorously. “The biggest asshole. How did you even put up with me?”

Minho snorts, but a small smile creeps onto his face. “Thank you, Thomas.”

“Does that mean you’ll be apart of my plan for Newt’s surprise party?”

As Thomas relays his newly formed plan to Minho, the Korean’s eyes widen and his face contorts into a multitude of expressions: shock, disbelief, confusion, and exasperation. With his pinched on the bridge of his nose, Minho says exasperatedly, “I swear to God you are doing the _most_.”

“So, you’re in?”

“Fuck yes I’m in.”

* * *

“Happy birthday, my love!” Thomas shouts into Newt’s ears nine mornings later, instantly waking the Peter Pan look alike up. 

Newt blinks multiple times before his eyes can even register Thomas’s face, his face scrunching up from grogginess. “I hate you.”

Thomas hops onto their bed and wraps his arms around Newt’s tiny frame. “No you don’t because I have the _best_ day planned for you and it starts as soon as you get out of this bed.”

Newt’s fingers curl around Thomas’s, the smallest smile forming on his lips “But I don’t want to. How about this year it’s just you, me, and our bed? Doesn’t that sound bloody fantastic?”

“You’re supposed to go out for breakfast with Sonya this morning before calling your mom, remember?”

“They’ll live. I want you - ”

“I hope you’re both dressed because I’m coming in either way,” Minho announces, before barging into the room with balloons. “Happy birthday, Nude!”

Newt’s rubs at his eyes, reluctantly sitting up and smiling at his friend. “Aw, thank you, Minho.”

“Anytime, shank. Now, get your ass is up because your sister is in the living room and I will claw my eyes out if I have to keep listening to her talk.”

“He’s got the best bedside manner, doesn’t he?” Thomas remarks once Minho’s left the room.

“Teresa would know.” 

He knows Newt’s testing him, to see if Minho’s incorrect hypothesis was true. Once Thomas had told him the origin of his and Minho’s fight, Newt had become uncharacteristically paranoid that Thomas did harbor secret feelings for Teresa. And no matter how many times Thomas tried to convince Newt that it would be identical to him having a crush on Sonya, Newt was too stubborn to listen.

Thomas has always been better at showing his feelings, anyways.

He leans down on top of Newt, who’s still buried under the heavy comforter despite the 90 degree weather, and kisses Newt’s neck. “I hope she does.”

Newt’s breath hitches. “Oh, do you?”

“I do.” Thomas says slowly, sucking on a soft spot right above Newt’s collarbone as his hand travels south. “Because I love _you_. Farther than any moon there is on this galaxy.”

Newt sighs in utter content and gasps. “Okay. Okay. Yeah, you too. Dear God, _Tommy_ -“

“Oh my God, close the fucking door!” A shrill female-sounding shriek erupts, and Thomas briefly lifts his head up to see a flash of long blonde hair in the door way.

“Ah. I think your sister saw my hand on your dick.”

Rudely interrupted from his state of bliss, Newt rolls his eyes and groans. “Does she have a bloody _kink_ for disturbing us at the wrong moment?”

* * *

Newt and Thomas part ways shortly afterwards. Sonya’s cheeks are red and she can’t look either of them in the eye while Minho can’t stop laughing hysterically.

He’s still laughing by the time Teresa and Harriet arrive twenty minutes.

“What’s his deal?” Harriet asks.

Thomas rolls his eyes. “He’s a child.”

Teresa pats Minho’s shoulder. “We all are, to some extent, if we’re honestly going through with this ridiculous plan of yours.”

“It’s going to be brilliant!” Thomas exclaims, clapping his hands together. “Now all we need to do is start getting ready. Sonya’s in charge of distraction duty right now and she promised they wouldn’t be back until noon. Then we’re all going to the beach until six, when the real fun begins.”

“You give me anxiety.” Harriet says shaking her head, rubbing her temples with her fingers. “This plan gives me anxiety. Hell, my anxiety is giving me anxiety.”

“Relax,” Thomas tells her. “It’s all going to work out.”

* * *

Everyone’s worries were forgotten when they arrived at the beach, the sun glistening on the waves rippling before the sand.

It’s simply a marvelous day of splashing each other, tanning, and making sandcastles which turns into another deadly competition of Sonya v. Thomas.

“Your sandcastle is stupid.” Thomas pointedly tells her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, your face is stupid.”

“Hey guys!” Minho calls out, distracting the both of them. “Look at us!”

Minho and Newt were standing on top of two surfboards, property of another college group close by them, trying to not to fall overboard into the water. Teresa and Harriet had gotten them noodles so they could try to smack each other off.

“This is going to end _so_ badly.” Sonya murmurs.

“So badly.” Thomas repeats in agreement. 

They both turn towards each other, a mutual understanding flashing through their eyes. 

Thirty seconds later, they’re in the water, egging Minho and Newt on alongside Teresa and Harriet.

Twenty minutes later, as predicted, it does end badly.

After Minho wins the first round, he’s determined to take down every single member of the group, excluding Teresa.

Teresa, the vicious savage that pushed Donald Greer over a six foot slide when she was seven, does not take kindly to that. Insisting that she can hold her own - especially against him - Minho finally relents to battling against her.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone _straight_ for his groin,” Thomas whispered to her, as the others hunch over Minho’s doubled over figure lying in the sand, trying to massage his shoulders.

“Was I not supposed to?”

“You could have gone for _any_ other place on his body and you choose that part?”

“Well, it’s pretty big so I figured -“

“ _Teresa_!” Thomas exclaims loudly, clapping his hands over his ears and closing his eyes, hoping the mental image hasn’t burned into his retinas. He doesn’t even need to look at her shit-eating grin to know she said to purposefully make him uncomfortable.

They leave the beach to return back to campus three hours later, with prune-wrinkled skin and sun burns on their noses. The girls head straight to Sonya and Harriet’s dorm, making plans to meet at the rendezvous point in a couple hours.

“What’s the plan after we shower?” Newt asks, on the drive back to the apartment.

“It’s a surprise.”

“A good surprise?”

Minho snorts. Thomas glances at him in the backseat through the driver’s mirror. “Only the best.”

* * *

An hour later, after they’ve showered and cleaned up themselves so that they no longer reek of saltwater, the boys make their way over to the liquor store so Newt can properly buy his first legal drink.

“Should it be classy or cheap?” Newt asks, examining a beautiful bottle of Dom Perignon and a six-pack of Bud Lite.

“Whatever you want, birthday boy.” Thomas whispers, brushing his lips against Newt’s ear, causing Newt’s cheeks to turn bright pink. He slips his credit card into the back pocket of Newt’s jeans. “Except preferably not a two hundred dollar bottle of wine.”

“Hey, Thomas, you want to pre-game?” Minho asks, handing him a plastic water bottle full of clear liquid. “You take that one and I’ll get some beer.”

“Are you Thomas Greene?” They hear the cashier ask Newt. The cashier’s around their age, with darker skin and far more muscle. He looks strong enough to pick up Minho and toss him across the store.

“No, that’s him over there.” Newt turns to point to Thomas. “I’m just using his credit card. Do you need my I.D?”

“Is he of age?”

“Thomas? No, but I am -“

“So he can’t purchase this.” The cashier said, scratching the dark hair atop his head. 

Newt’s frown deepens. “But _he’s_ not. I am. This is just _his_ card.”

“As far as I am concerned, Thomas Greene is not allowed to buy this alcohol.” The cashier tells Newt loudly. 

Sighing, Thomas unscrews the cap from his own bottle and starts to take a sip.

Minho raises his eyebrows and raises his voice towards the direction of the cash register, “Is there a problem?”

“Thomas Greene is not bloody buying this alcohol, _I_ am!” Newt says frustratedly. “Here, you can check my I.D - “

“Thomas?” A familiar voice calls out, sending chills down Thomas’s spine. He freezes, the bottle still pressed to his lips.

Officer Tommy pokes his head out from behind one of the aisles, for the first time not wearing his complete uniform. He stares at the bottle in Thomas’s hand and then at the predicament happening at the register.

“Hey, Officer Tommy. What’s up? Fancy seeing you here.” Thomas says quickly, trying to hide the bottle behind him.

Minho’s eyes widen as Officer Tommy comes closer to him. “Are you trying to buy alcohol, Thomas?”

Thomas shakes his head vigorously. “No, sir. Newt is. I gave him my credit card because it’s his birthday. He’s 21 now so he’s legal.”

“But you’re not.” Officer Tommy reminded him. “What’s behind your back?”

Newt and Minho can’t seem to move, either. Thomas contemplates dropping the bottle and trying to make a run for it. He can easily outrun Officer Tommy - he’s good at sliding under people and rapidly closing doors - but Officer Tommy would eventually go home and tell his mother what had happened.

And Thomas is a lot more scared of his mother than he is of Officer Tommy.

So he pulls his hand out in front of him, clutching the bottle to calm his shaking hands. As he expects, Officer Tommy beckons for him to hand it over. He can hear his heart thundering in his ears as he feels his soul slip away from his body and hands the bottle over to Officer Tommy.

Officer Tommy takes one whiff of the bottle and shakes his head. “You know, Thomas, when you said you had a surprise planned for your boyfriend’s birthday, I didn’t expect this of you. I’m very disappointed.”

“Wait, sir,” Newt tries to cut in, the darling hero that he is, but Officer Tommy raises his hand.

“You two are both 21 and therefore legal adults,” Officer Tommy says, pointing to him and Minho. “Thomas, here, is not. And he’s going to have to come with me.”

“Really?” Thomas’s shoulders droops and his heart beat quickens. “Sir, look, I’m almost  21 -“

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be, Thomas. I have a job to do and it’ll be easier for the both of us if you just come with me.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” Newt says without hesitation, reaching for Thomas’s hand.

“No, you can’t. It’s your birthday and I don’t want to fuck this up any more for you,” Thomas tries to tell him.

“We’ll both go with Thomas so we can bail him out of whatever trouble he gets himself in.” Minho volunteers. “Just don’t tell the girls.”

“Thank you,” Thomas whispers to Newt as they gently follow Officer Tommy out of the liquor store into that goodnight.

“Thanks, Frypan.” Officer Tommy called over his shoulder, pointing in the direction of his squad car. The three boys file into the back, silent as mice, careful not to step on the discarded metal handcuffs on the floor. 

“I’m glad I’m with you the first time you’re getting arrested,” Newt tells Thomas quietly, as if he should be the one trying to lighten the mood. “It’ll be just another story to tell the grandkids.”

_Grandkids._

“Like the first Spring break we ever all went on together to Miami?” Thomas reminds him with a small chuckle. 

“Oh my God, you mean when we all came back with the world’s worst hangovers?” Minho groans, forgetting to lower his voice.

Officer Tommy conveniently chooses that moment to turn up the radio. He’s put on his flashing lights so that they could zip through the traffic on the highway.

Newt’s famous frown etches over his face as he looks out the window. “Where are we -“

“Do you remember the nude beach?” Thomas asks, bringing Newt’s attention back to them.

“We don’t speak of the nude beach,” Newt repeats the mantra with a wicked grin.

“And that time your sister tried to kiss Thomas, even though she was dating Ben? Dear God, aren’t we all glad to be rid of _that_ relationship?” Minho makes a face of disgust.

“My mum sure is.” Newt snorts. “Sonya would ring up the phone bills so high, we almost lost our dining plan when we were on campus.”

“Crazy how time flies. I swear to God, that feels like it was just yesterday,” Thomas remarks.

Minho shudders so bad that Thomas feels it next to him. “Oh my God, do you remember Janson?”

“Why the _hell_ would you even bring him up when we’re just trying to have a good night -“

“Wait a minute,” Newt interrupts, confusion etched in his voice. “We’re not heading the right way.”

 Minho covers his hand with his mouth and looks out the other window.

“What do you mean?” Thomas asks him.

“Isn’t the nick that way?” He points to the lane of traffic heading in the opposite direction.

“The _what?_ ” Thomas asks bewildered.

“The, er, station. The police station?”

“Why would you call it Nick?” Minho asks, turning back to them.

“Is that really the most pressing matter right now?” Newt’s frown deepens. 

“Well, yeah. Who’s Nick?” Minho asks.

“Nick is a person, not a place.” Thomas shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s why we’re confused.”

Newt’s eyes follow Thomas’s hand on his neck. “You’re stalling. You’re not telling me something. What the bloody hell is going on?”

“If you don’t tell him, I might actually start cracking up,” Minho coughs into his hand, then whistles himself a tune while looking at the window.

“Tell me what?” Newt asks slowly, staring Thomas in the eye now.

Thomas’s eyes float past Newt’s head for the briefest of moments, gauging their location. If he’d been timing this right, they’d be at their location any moment now.

“This may or may not be a part of your surprise party.” Thomas bites down on his bottom lip to keep from chuckling.

“ _What_?”

“Here we are, boys!” Officer Tommy announces, pulling into the parking lot of one of Newt’s favorite places in the world.

Newt whirls around, his jaw dropping to the ground. Outside of the car, Sonya, Teresa, and Harriet were in the Six Flags parking lot, holding up a large poster with Newt’s face on it. As tradition would have it, the glittery painted poster read, _“Happy birthday Nude!!! We love you!!!”_

Newt turns around slowly, looking at Thomas with the cutest perplexed look on his face. “You mean…they are…he - he was in on this?”

Newt’s pointing to Officer Tommy, who gives him a friendly smile. “Of course I was. Thomas had this idea in his head that I needed to arrest him, in order to scare the living daylight out of you, before bringing you to the best place on Earth.”

“He insisted that we needed to arrive in style. And since limousines cost actual money, this was the cheapest option.” Minho adds, shaking his head. “We all told him he’s bat-shit crazy.”

Newt was still looking at Thomas as if he had grown four heads. “But the cashier -“

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t remember Frypan,” Thomas chuckles. “He used to be in one of my classes freshmen year and we were pretty friendly, so I figured he’d help us out.”

Newt slowly points to the water bottle up front with Officer Tommy, still dazed.

“It’s just water.” Minho smirks.

Newt lets out a long sigh, a large smile creeping onto his face. “You really are mad.”

“We could sit inside this car all night and list every single crazy thing I’ve ever done _or,_ ” Thomas pokes Newt’s stomach. “We can go celebrate your birthday at Six Flags!”

After thanking - and apologizing profusely, on Newt’s part - Officer Tommy, the boys trickle out of the car, where Sonya and Harriet are shaking their heads.

“I can’t believe you actually pulled this off.” Harriet says in disbelief, waving to Officer Tommy as he drives away. “For the record, it is the the coolest yet most ridiculous thing you have ever done. Can we go celebrate now?”

“We’re totally going on that.” Teresa points to the Goliath, where kids and adults alike are screaming bloody murder, linking her arm in Minho’s.

A look of terror flashes through Minho’s eyes. “Are you insane?”

“No, she’s just a savage.” Thomas tells him.

“We are absolutely _not_ going on that!” Minho tries to pull away, but Teresa isn’t absolutely not taking no for an answer as she drags him towards the admissions booth. “Someone help me!”

Sonya and Harriet go laughing after him, their voices full of teasing and mockery.

Thomas is just about to follow, when Newt grabs his arm. “Hang on a minute.”

Thomas’s pulse quickens and he starts hearing his blood rush in his ears. _Oh my God he hated all of this, he hates me, I’m a mess, he’s going to -_

But then a grin crosses over Newt’s face and he says, “Well, don’t look so bloody terrified. I just wanted to thank you.”

Thomas remembers what air is again. “You didn’t hate it?”

“Watching you get fake arrested probably wouldn’t have been at the top of my list for fun things to do on my birthday, but when else am I going to ride in a police car for shits and giggles? Of course I didn’t hate it, you bugger.”

Thomas reaches to scratch the back of his neck, but Newt grabs his hand instead and laces their fingers together. “I always love the extravagant parts of your birthday plans, Tommy, you know that. But no matter how crazy your plans are, _you’ll_ always be my favorite part.”

Thomas feels his cheeks getting bright pink. Even though it’s dark and Newt probably can’t see him blushing anyways, he kisses him and pretends it’s the Fourth of July and fireworks are exploding in the sky.

“Come on,” Thomas grins giddily when they pull away and Newt has a far away look in his eyes. “We’re going on Goliath!”

“Wait, you’re kidding, right?” That brings Newt back to reality real fast. “Thomas? You’re kidding? I swear to God if you’re not kidding, I will throw up on you!”

“Charming. You can sit next to Minho then.”

“Is it too late to slap you in the face?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you GUYS I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. and i am SO sorry i have neglected this story to the ends of the earth. i really didn't mean to take this long of a mental health break. i actually started college this past september and it's kind of fucking ironic how much everything has changed and how emotionally traumatized i am by it all. but there's only one more chapter left to tell in THIS particular story so i've been kind of putting off publishing this. i've literally had this written since july, but i just needed to be happy with it. and i think i am. i definitely like it a lot better than i did in july.
> 
> soooo one more chapter coming your way and i'm going to try to make it before the new year comes. i do want to write some sort of spin-off to this story; and i've been thinking i'll do it in the form of one-shots from moments i didn't cover and from the future. let me know if you guys would like that!! xx i love you and your kind hearts so much xx


	19. I Am Glad To Be With You, Here At The End of All Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting."
> 
> or the epilogue where the gang graduates and moves on to brighter futures {june}

_one year later_

Thomas had dreamed of this day his whole life.

In his dreams, _both_ of his parents would have been there, smiling and waving at him. His mom would have her hands clasped together in her youthful glory, her pretty brown eyes shining with restrained tears. His father would have his arm wrapped around her shoulders, beaming proudly down at Thomas as he shouted, “That’s _my_ boy! That’s my Greenie!”

In his dreams, Thomas would be handed his diploma from the President of Harvard University, his dream school. He’d be standing amongst his fellow peers in black gowns and black caps, with blood red scarves to signify their hard work these past four years.

But in his dreams, he always wakes up. And reality is never even close to what he dreamed.

However, as of these past four years, he’s stopped dreaming and started living. No more hoping his dead-beat father coming back to redeem himself and what he’d done to the people he called his family. No more fantasies about the promised trip to Spain. No more wishing he had done his life differently and had accepted that two-year scholarship to Harvard, where he’d be leaving everything he’d ever known behind to explore something new.

His something new came to him, anyways. It came to him in the form of friendships, that eventually turned into a family. In the form of new experiences and new adventures. In the form of many, _many_ , mistakes made and lessons learned, but paths he’d never regret taking.

Thomas had dreamed of his college graduation day his whole life. 

And now, he is so fucking ecstatic that those dreams never came true.

* * *

The girls are crying. 

( _But that’s to be expected - they cried at a lot of things over the years.)_

Sonya’s nose is as red as Rudolph’s. She keeps blotting at her face like a “proper” lady, occasionally dabbing at the light make-up she put on that morning. She looks like a movie star in the pale blue graduation gown, bright red lipstick, and her blonde hair curled in fancy ringlets.

“You know, I always thought that this would be the happiest day of my life.” She sniffles into a Kleenex she’s taken from her designer clutch at her side. “But I can’t stop _crying_ , I’m going to miss this so much.”

Harriet is faring only _slightly_ better. Her tears are revealed through her voice, much croakier and raspier than normal. Her curly hair is flying in the wind and even though she’s been complaining about it for the past twenty minutes, Thomas still thinks she looks amazing. “I can’t tell if I’m happy to be done with this place or if I’m sad that I actually have _more_ school after this.”

Thomas smiles at her, rubbing her arm gently. “There, there. At least we know we can count on you to be the medical hero of the day when Minho drinks himself into a stupor.”

Harriet would be continuing her studies at the University of Toronto where she had applied to receive her nursing degree. In the summer between now and September, she would be interning at the hospital Teresa’s mom worked at, giving her a couple months left with the gang.

Regarding their favorite alcoholic, he's speaking with his parents who had just arrived from Nevada. His arm is around Teresa’s waist, who has the happiest smile on her face as she laughs at something Minho’s mother said.

“They are such a cute couple.” Sonya says with her hand over her heart, forgetting for a moment about her misery. “I’m glad they’re at least staying together.”

Thomas agrees they’re a match made in heaven; they’re both cunning and intelligent, but where Minho is impulsive and reckless, Teresa’s there to be the voice of paranoia and unnecessary worry. He’s a business major and with her economics degree, they’re planning nothing short of world domination.

* * *

_“Minho, it’s going to be a wedding planning business.” Teresa scoffed, two months prior on a double date, at their favorite diner from their underclass years._

_Minho swooped one of her fries from her plate and shook his head. “Absolutely not. That’s going to flop faster than Newt as a Computer Science major.”_

_“Hey! I’m right here.” Newt protests and Thomas pats his knee sympathetically. “And you just sucked at tutoring.”_

_“Whatever.” Minho waves his hand dismissively, swiping more fries from Teresa’s plate. “We need to do something practical. Like campaign management for political candidates. That’s world domination right there, baby.”_

_Teresa rolled her eyes so hard, Thomas was surprised her eyes didn’t stick to the top of her head. “You’re an idiot. Campaign management is a horrible idea! Minho, the money is in event-planning, more specifically weddings. Do you know how much people will pay for a wedding? We could live comfortably in Rome, Morocco, and fucking Tokyo if we wanted to with that kind of business.”_

_“Oh yeah? And how much are you going to pay for our wedding?” Minho asked, casually stealing her chocolate milkshake._

_Teresa was easily rattled. She worried too much about the tiniest things, even her own birthday. But n_ _ow, she just smirked at her boyfriend and snatched her milkshake back from him. “A fortune. Because it’s going to be_ _the_ _event of the year. That’s where the_ _money_ _is, Minho! You want world domination? Listen to me and do what I tell you to.”_

_Thomas could only stare at the woman in the seat across from him in wonder._

_Minho merely rolled his eyes and started stealing Thomas and Newt’s food (“Stop that!”). “Say for one second, I would entertain your crazy notion, where would we even start?”_

_“Can you believe this?” Newt whispered in Thomas’s ear._

_“I know, they’re actually talking about the future.”_

_“What? Oh. Yeah, that’s hunky-dory, but I’m talking about these fries. They’re so amazing today. I want to marry them.”_

_“Newt, I love you, but what is with you and fries lately?”_

_“We’ll start off in California, L.A specifically. City of angels.” Teresa had said matter-of-factly, as if she had their entire future planned out._

* * *

 

As an interesting turn of events, they instead decided to take their talents to Wall Street in New York City. When asked more about it, Teresa shrugged her shoulders and sheepishly revealed she had been a little _too_ inspired by her on-going _Say Yes to the Dress_ marathons with Sonya and Harriet.

So instead, she found a paid internship at a financial firm in her favorite city while Minho would be working as an office assistant at the Forbes headquarters. They’d be leaving in a month, to a small, elegant apartment in the city, that Minho proudly boasted none of his father’s money would be touching.

“But we’re all going to be so far apart from each other.” Harriet sniffles. “I’ll be in Toronto, they’ll be in New York, and you fucking decided to go back to London.”

* * *

 

_“It makes the most sense.” Sonya had told them in the most serious tone Thomas had ever heard her use, almost four months back. The six of them were all at a bar they used to frequent as freshmen with fake I.Ds for cheap beer, but could now peacefully enjoy glasses of expensive wine. “I’ll start back at home, where I know people and I have connections to. It’ll be easier to move to Paris from there. Won’t it?”_

_“But you’ll be so far away!” Harriet exclaimed, her cheeks a dusty pink from all the wine they had consumed so far. “It’ll be the first time in four years we haven’t lived together.”_

_“Harriet,_ _you’re_ _moving to Canada.” Thomas reminded her._

 _“Okay, but Canada’s not_ _that_ _far from here. England is far.”_

_“Yeah, it’s going to be weird without you around.” Minho frowned. “Who’s going to be there to bother me?”_

_Teresa pressed a swift kiss to his cheek. “Don't forget about me now. I, for one, am going to miss the hell out of you, Sonya. But I’m happy if you’re happy.”_

_“But you’ll come back, right?” Thomas asked her. “We’re like the gangs from Friends and How I Met Your Mother. They didn’t separate for a really long time. Why do you have two have to go?”_

_(It’d be another two months before the remaining four realized they weren’t sticking around either.)_

_“It’s not like we’re never going to see each other again.” Sonya murmured, her hands fiddling in her lap. “Our mums all did it. And they’re still the best of friends. We’ll find each other again. Don’t you worry.”_

_“You’re awfully quiet, Newt.” Harriet said, looking over Thomas at the blond boy next to him. “What do you think?”_

_Thomas had assumed Newt was trying to silently grieve the fact that he and his sister were going to be possibly be separated from each other for the first time in their lives. But when his boyfriend looked up, his eyes were wide with awe. “What? Oh. About Sonya moving back to London? Yeah, yeah, have you guys tasted these fries? They’re fucking gobsmacking.”_

_Thomas frowned in concern. “Sure, they're probably good but what do you really think?”_

_Then Thomas put the fry in his mouth._

_Newt looked at him expectantly, as did everyone else at the table._

_“Oh my God. These fries are out of this world. What seasoning did they use?” Thomas broke his own concentration, taking more fries from Newt’s plate. “Did we all order these? We need to all order these now. Immediately. Minho, call the waitress.”_

_Minho looked at him from across the table in disbelief. “Dude. We all know Newt’s a little weird in the head but can we focus for a second? This is our future we’re talking about, people -”_

_Then Thomas leaned across the table and put a few fries in his open mouth. Minho stared at Thomas in bewilderment, slowly chewing._

_“Did you just,” Minho faltered. He kept chewing. And chewing. And chewing. “Shit. Wow, shit. Shit, these are fucking amazing!”_

_“New drinking game.” Teresa said to Sonya and Harriet. “Every time they have an orgasm over these fries, you have to take two shots.”_

_“No, babe, try these fries!” Minho’s eyes were lit with heavenly bliss. “All of you try them! They’re really fucking good!”_

_And soon enough, they were all downing shots of expensive wine as they shoved fries into their mouths and tossed them at each other, laughing and swearing loudly._

_Ten minutes later, they were politely asked to leave the bar._

_As Newt and Thomas walked back to the apartment they still shared with Minho (and often times, Teresa), they walked at a much slower pace than the others. Sonya and Harriet were drunk up ahead, giggling and skipping over each other, while they sang songs from some Disney cartoon movie. Minho was cackling with his arm wrapped around Teresa’s shoulder as she filmed the two girls, rushing to keep up with them._

_Newt was swinging their entwined hands back and forth between them, humming to himself._

_“So what do you really think about Sonya moving back to London?” Thomas asked softly, despite the distance between them and their friends. Even if they had been closer, the four would have been too preoccupied with their antics to hear anything._

_Newt didn’t respond for a long time, still humming._

_Thomas was about to change the subject when Newt piped up, “She told me about it this morning. When you were at your class and Minho was at work.”_

_“She did?” Thomas asked, trying to seem casual. He had learned to calm down his formerly, hyper-inquisitive nature as he knew Newt never kept secrets from him. Everything locked up in his head usually came out without too much prying when Newt was ready to tell him._

_“Yeah. She did that thing where she just barges in and explodes with her news.”_

_“Without even preparing you first, right? Like the time when she announced she was dating Ben at your old dorm room? I was helping you pack for your trip home and I had asked you where your other sock was.”_

_“Exactly. And oh God, the pregnancy scare.”_

_“Yeah, I would’ve liked some warning then.”_

_“Me too. Especially this morning.”_

_“Especially any morning really. Who needs big news when they’ve just woken up?”_

_“You’re right. You’re always right.”_

_“Not when I’m left.”_

_“Oh, shut up.” At least he was smiling, Thomas thought to himself. And not humming a very sad melody._

_They walked for a few more moments in silence, their hands swinging back and forth as they watched their friends goof off in the night._

_Newt finally sighed. “I don’t want her to go.”_

_“You should tell her that.” Thomas whispered._

_“I did. And she said it was selfish of me.”_

_“What? Why?”_

_“She said that I have you.” Newt murmured, his body pressing closer to Thomas as they kept moving. “And she has no one.”_

_“That’s not fair, though -“_

_“It is true. Harriet’s going away. And she misses home. So it’ll be good for her.”_

_Thomas stops them, holding Newt’s hand a little tighter. “You’re not selfish, my love. She’s your sister and this will be the first time you’re not together. It’s a big change. You’re allowed to want her to stay.”_

_Newt looks at him, with a small smile. He leans closer to Thomas and plays with the hair behind his ear. “It’s okay, Tommy. You're right that she's my sister. It's not like I won't ever see her again, even though there are times where I really wouldn't mind if she disappeared off the face of the planet. It'll do us some good to get away from her annoying self anyways._ _”_

_Thomas chuckles. “Us? I actually like Sonya.”_

_“Yeah but you like me better.” Newt pouts, childishly._

_Thomas laughs against Newt’s lips, kissing him before murmuring, “And you’re always going to have me.”_

* * *

“You’re going to have to come visit me. All of you!” Sonya tells her tearfully before turning to Thomas. “Well, of course you two will be.”

“Oh, yeah! God, I swear that internship was _made_ for you.” Harriet laughs, despite having been crying only moments before.

Thomas is just about to respond when he is tackled from behind and nearly collides into Harriet.

It’s Newt, of course, who has his arms wrapped around Thomas’s waist and his face snuggled between the crook of Thomas’s neck and shoulder. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Thomas rolls his eyes affectionately, twisting his body slightly to pull Newt into a hug, a goofy smile pulling at his lips.“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Hi, Newt.” Sonya interrupts, wiping at her face some more. “Did you say hi to Mum and Dad yet? Or Harriet? Or even your sister?”

“Do you hear something, Tommy?” Newt’s eyes are only trained on him, as if he’s the center of the universe. “It’s like an annoying buzzing sound that you can’t rid of.”

“We were just talking about you.” Thomas chuckles, trying to avoid an impending banter session. “Well, actually, our plans to see your sister in December.”

“Oh, that.” Newt finally takes his away from Thomas and turns to Sonya. “And yes I did say hi to Mum. I left her talking to Claire.”

Newt points to his and Thomas's mother laughing with each other, over near the bleachers. “She gave me my present.”

“What?” Sonya’s jealous side comes out. “That’s not fair. She said she wouldn’t give me mine until _after_ the ceremony.”

“Who’s the twelve-year-old now?”

Sonya rolls her eyes as Minho and Teresa make their way over, disgustingly smiling at each other. “Anyways, before you came and ruined our lovely conversation, we were talking about how everything is going to change after today!”

Teresa turns to Thomas, her bright blue eyes filled with pride. “How excited are you for that internship? It sounds so amazing!”

* * *

 

 _“It’s technically a humanitarian internship,” Thomas had blushed. Almost a month prior, at the boys’ apartment, the six of them had gathered around for a wine and game night. He was playing a fierce round of Monopoly with Harriet and had just landed on her property in Times Square with_ _three_ _houses when he dropped the bombshell. “But the cool thing is I get to be an assistant to the financial director of the program, Relief International.”_

_“Thomas, that’s fantastic!” Teresa beamed, her cheeks bright pink._

_“Yeah man, congrats!” Minho said while playing with strands of Teresa’s hair. “What do you do?”_

_“Information and communication management.” Thomas replied, his own cheeks bright pink, although no one can really tell if he’s buzzed or blushing anymore. “I help handle all of the financial aspects and communications between other programs in other countries.”_

_“That’s not even half of it.” Newt chimes in loud and proud, after a quite few a Bloody Mary’s. “You should see the packet full of all the responsibilities he has to do. Wait, I think it’s in the bedroom!”_

_Newt jumps up with surprising grace for his inebriated state, to go and find the acceptance packet that came in the mail earlier that day, his warmth quickly leaving Thomas’s side._

_“Congratulations, Thomas!” Sonya beams at him at the same time Harriet tells him, “You’re a fucking rock star. I’m so happy for you!”_

_“Where is it?” Minho asked._

_A smile breaks out onto Thomas’s face. “Well, that’s the cool part. It’s in D.C -“_

_“Oh yay, you’ll be so close to the World Bank!” Teresa exclaims._

_“- For the first three months.” Thomas continued. He looked at Sonya when he finished, “But then I was also accepted into the London program, to handle financial and communication matters in Europe.”_

_Sonya’s eyes are bright and her hands fly to her face. “You’re joking!”_

_Thomas simply shakes his head, causing his drunken world to start spinning. “Nope. We’ll see you by Christmas!”_

_“Newt’s coming with you?” Harriet asked. “What’s he going to do?”_

_“So remember how he changed his major for the fourth time, even though we all repeatedly told him he could not change his major four times?”_

_The other four groan and roll their eyes. “Yes.”_

_“Surprisingly, he ended up with enough credits to graduate with the rest of us as an art history major.”_

_“Are you serious?” Minho frowned. “He doesn’t even to complete a summer term?”_

_“Nope, nada. And get this. He’s got a_ _job_ _.”_

_“Wait, what?” Sonya blurts out, while the other three drop their jaws in shock. “This is the first I’m hearing about this.”_

_“He literally heard back from his new employer an hour after I got my acceptance packet. He’s got a_ _job_ _as an assistant to the Events Coordinator at the Strathmore, this crazy intense performing arts center in D.C!”_

_“Found it!” Newt announced as he came back in the living room with the acceptance packet. He stopped in his tracks as he realized four of his friends were staring at him, wide-eyed. “What?”_

_Minho was the first to break out of his stupor. He jumped up from his cozy spot on the couch next to his girlfriend and gave Newt a giant bear hug. “I’m so proud of you, buddy!”_

_“What in the -“_

_“Newt! You got a job and didn’t tell me!” Sonya scolded as she joined in on their hug, nearly crushing the poor boy. “My baby brother is all grown up!”_

_Teresa looked at them fondly, before turning to Thomas. “But your internship is only three months before you go to London. What is he going to do if he has a job?”_

_Thomas sighed, watching his friends embrace each other as Newt tried to not to die from suffocation. “Take it minute by minute, I guess. See how he likes the job in two and a half months time. If he doesn’t like it, then that's an easy decision. He’ll come with me to London.”_

_“And what if he does?” Harriet asks, a worried expression crossing over her face._

_“Then I’m still going to be happy for him.” Thomas reassures her and Teresa with a smile. “He’ll come visit me and his family in London, when he can get time off and there’s enough money.”_

_“Tom,”_

_“T, it’s going to be fine.” Thomas promises her. “We talked about it and it makes the most sense. All roads lead back to D.C in the end. So if he’s there, he’s making a permanent place for us there. And wherever he is, I’ll be there. It’s going to be just fine.”_

_And for once, Thomas truly believed in himself._

_“Wait a minute.” Harriet said loudly, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “Wait just a fucking minute, Thomas. You can’t do that.”_

_He frowned at her, his heart twisting and contracting. “Harriet, what do you mean?”_

_“You can’t just drop that kind of bombshell on all of us and expect to get out of giving me $300 bucks for landing on my property! Pay up, pretty boy.”_

* * *

 

“It is going to be amazing.” Thomas says in response, smiling at the boy next to him.

Newt simply winks at him and then an announcement is made for everyone to get in line and get ready to graduate.

“Ready for the rest of our lives?” Harriet asks, with a nervous grin on her face. 

And even though they were sad and nervous to be leaving each other in the impending future, they could only look at each other. In their small circle, truly wonderful memories had been made and no one wanted to walk away from them.

"We're all coming back to each other in the end," Minho says softly, surprisingly the one to give the sentimental pep-talk. "It's not goodbye."

"It's never goodbye." Newt agrees. "Goodbye means forgetting. And we're not forgetting each other."

"Not even if we tried." Sonya laughs, looking directly at her brother.

"Yeah, I think we're ready." Teresa puts her hand in the middle of the circle. "On three, we go."

"One." Thomas counts.

"Two." Harriet says, biting her lip.

They let a moment pause, nerves rolling in each of their stomachs, before giddily shouting, "Three!"

* * *

After the school officials are finished calling everyone’s name and the audience cheers loudly for the Glade University graduates, his mother tells him she can not have been more proud of her “little boy”.

“I can’t believe you’re all grown-up, now!” His beautiful mother is also crying, while uselessly fussing with his gown and tie underneath. “And you’re really moving away from me this time. Are you sure you’re going to be okay? And you’ve checked out the apartment and there’s no infestations? No horrible plumbing? You'll have cable and a working refrigerator?”

“Ma, it’s a great apartment. We already checked it out a couple weeks ago, remember I Face-Timed you from it?” Thomas chuckles as her hands fly to fix his “unruly hair”. 

“Yes, but -“

“It’s a great space. It’s got a bedroom, a kitchen, _and_ a bathroom.” Thomas teases her a little. “Really, what more can we ask for?”

“Oh Claire, it’ll be quite alright.” Officer Tommy advocates reassuringly for Thomas. He’s in his full uniform today, without handcuffs and his gun, but he stills looks comfortable to be there. “Congratulations, Thomas!”

And as he leans into hug him, Thomas is very much aware that Officer Tommy is not and will never be his father.

Because when times got difficult between Officer Tommy and his mother, Officer Tommy never once packed his bags and left. He stuck around to solve the arguments, help pay the increasing rent bills, and spent quality time with his mother’s side of the family when they came over unannounced.

So Thomas is eternally grateful for this man who has made his mother learn to enjoy life again and slowly repaired the silent hole in their home.

His mother and Officer Tommy leave shortly afterwards, agreeing to meet Thomas and Newt’s family for lunch in about an hour. His mother squeezes him into one last tearful hug and he’s so damn happy he lucked out with the best mother on the planet. As he’s walking up and down the Glade, trying to find his friends, he runs into a familiar face he hasn’t seen in a couple years.

“Hi, Gally.” 

They’re both twenty-two now, but Gally still towers over him. Once upon a freshman year, that would have intimidated an unprovoked Thomas. Now, he merely smiles at the other man.

“Hello, Thomas.” Gally nods his head politely. “How are you?”

“Happy to be out of here.” Thomas admits. “You?”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Gally says and it’s slightly awkward for a minute. They’re not friends, nor close acquaintances, and there’s really nothing either of them have to say to each other.

Except Thomas knows there is. “Listen, Gally, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Gally’s satanic eyebrows rise. “For what?”

“For everything. For the first day of classes, for provoking you, for getting mad at you and Teresa over nothing last year.” Thomas forces himself to keep eye contact with Gally even though he feels his neck burning up from embarrassment. “And I know that after today, we’ll probably never see each other again, but these past four years have been some of the best years of my life. And I don’t want to look back on them with a single regret.”

Gally chuckles to himself. “Ha. No ragrets?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just a movie I was watching the other day.” He then clears his throat and looks seriously at Thomas. “Do you remember when you came to my dorm, freshmen year, right before winter break? You apologized for everything then. But I, um, I never said anything back to you.”

Gally sighs and shakes out his shoulders. “All I wanted to say is thank you. You didn’t have to do that, especially after everything I did to you. And yes, I'm also sorry about everything. Sorry for shoving you backwards across a classroom and socking your boyfriend in the jaw.” Thomas cringes at the memory. “But there’s something that’s been bothering me since that day, that I’ve never quite worked up the nerve to ask you.”

Thomas raises his eyebrow and asks again, “What?”

“Who told you about my brother?”

Thomas freezes for a moment, knitting his eyebrows. It’d been a _long_ time since he’d had a conversation or any sort of interaction with Gally and four long years later, he had honestly forgotten the other boy _had_ a brother. 

But that’s right - he _had_ a brother. As in, past tense. As in, dead. He scrunches his eyebrow even more, trying to remember how he knew this when it slowly starts coming back to him. It was one of his first college parties, and he and Gally were in the inebriated process of insulting each other, a common thing that year. Except, they’d been interrupted by Newt and his friend, Alby Einstein, and he’d followed Newt outside.

_“Gally used to have a little brother named Chuck, whom he was very fond of. Chuck was three years younger than Gally, but always wanted to keep up with him. Gally had fallen into the wrong sort of crowd his third year, but managed to redeem himself his fourth year. Chuck, unfortunately, fell in that crowd too. All I know is that he died of a heroin overdose six months ago and Gally still hasn’t forgiven himself for it.”_

Newt never did tell him how he found about the news and he never thought to ask. But he still owes Gally a proper explanation, “Newt told me. A very long time ago. But I really don’t know how he ever found out. I’m sure it wasn’t gossiping, though.”

Gally snorts and rubs his hand on his jaw. “Oh. No, I should’ve put the pieces together. I told him. It was early in the semester and I was with smoking with Alby outside by the football field, when he came out of nowhere, looking lost as hell. I remembered seeing him around the dining hall in our building, but I didn’t really care to make friends with him. Alby was the nice one and invited him to chill with us. I don’t remember how it lead up to me telling him about my brother, but after that we had more a mutual respect for each other.”

Gally looks Thomas in the eye again and even begrudgingly smiles. “Thank you, Thomas. For the apology. Happy graduation day.”

“Happy graduation day, Gally.”

* * *

He finds Teresa and Minho, talking to Brenda and Alby Einstein, after he parts ways with Gally.

“Hey!” Thomas says with a smile as he goes up to them and gives Brenda a hug, shaking hands with Alby. “I didn’t know you were coming, I thought you were still in New York?”

“Of course I had to come to your graduation!” Brenda tells him, slapping him fondly upside the head. Teresa and Minho cackle. “We’re only staying for the night, but can we all get drinks later? It’ll be on us!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Alby interjects with a laugh. “Have you seen these guys drink?”

“What do you say to a nice, friendly game of beer pong later, Einstein?” Minho asks with a wicked grin.

“We’ll have to invite everyone.” Teresa adds. “Newt, Sonya, and Harriet, the whole gang. But don’t worry, we’ll split tabs.”

Thomas smiles at her, in awe of how much his best friend had changed over their past college years together. It had taken her awhile to claim his friends as hers, but eventually she had warmed up to the idea of sharing Tom with “the gang” and had stopped finding excuses to chase after their old friends from high school. When once upon a sophomore year, she was only around at their parties for “free beer” and “hot boys”, she’s now become an integral part of their family.

She looks over at him and catches his gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason. I’m just happy.”

Teresa rolls her eyes but laughs in spite of herself. “You’re such a sap. Why am I friends with you?”

“Because I’m incredibly awesome and you would not have survived life without me?”

“So egotistical! I’m pretty sure _you_ would not have survived life without your personal bodyguard.”

“Yo, Thomas, where’s Newt?” Minho asks, turning his attention to the two.

His eyes scan over the glade area until he spots Newt, Sonya, and Harriet, all with their parents. His eyes rest on Newt, his smile never faltering, when only moments later the other boy happens to look up. His face turns brighter the moment their eyes connect. 

He, Sonya, and Harriet bid their parents goodbye - for now - and come over to the others. 

“Are you guys up for getting drinks later?” Brenda asks as they join the group and Newt slinks over to Thomas’s side.

Although Harriet and Sonya have never spoken to Brenda much, everyone’s friendly enough to get along with each other and soon a party is being planned at the boys apartment.

“You know whenever we host a party, you guys never clean up.” Newt rolls his eyes.

“Oh, relax.” Harriet tells him. “We’ll be on our best behavior this time.”

“Last time you said that, Sonya threw up in my bedroom.” Minho reminds her with a glare.

“Can we please let that go?” Sonya sighs as everyone but her and Minho start laughing. “I promise not to throw up. Especially on your bed.”

“Don’t worry.” Teresa laughs. “We’ll all help clean up.”

And even though all three boys know that is the biggest lie of the month, they reluctantly agree into hosting a graduation party later that night.

“We have to go.” Teresa says after a few more minutes of chatter, patting Minho on the shoulder. “Our parents are having dinner together for the first time and this one claims he needs to pre-game.”

“Her father’s terrifying!” Minho protests as everyone cracks up. He looks to Thomas for defense. “You know this.”

Thomas snorts. “Sure, he’s not the _most_ expressive guy in the world but terrifying, Minho? Really?”

“All fathers are terrifying. That’s a fact.”

“Mine is just the first that you’ve met and _that’s_ terrifying to you.” Teresa says in a low voice, that surely Thomas isn’t meant to hear but he does anyways and he smiles because his two best friends are happy and that makes him happy.

“Your father is terrifying.” Alby tells Brenda as an afterthought after Minho and Teresa have left to head towards his car.

“What? No he’s not.” Brenda exclaims, absolutely bewildered. She turns to Thomas. “My dad isn’t terrifying. Right?”

Thomas only looks at her before changing the subject, “So the weather…it’s, like, really nice.”

Brenda scoffs and shakes her head. “Wow.” 

Sonya throws her head back and laughs. “Is our dad terrifying to you?”

Newt and Sonya’s dad is not as much terrifying as he is intimidating. Having known about the deep riff between the two and their father way before he ever met him, Thomas felt very nervous to meet him for the first time. He hadn’t even been dating Newt when he, Minho, and Harriet visited London, but it was a still very weird experience to actually talk to the man the two siblings had bitched about for the majority of two years.

“He’s just intimidating.” Harriet says before he can open his mouth. “Like, he doesn’t talk.”

“He also stares _intently_ at you when you are talking.” Thomas adds. “With the blankest expression.”

“Yeah! It’s like he’s judging everything you're saying.”

“Even if it’s as simple as the sky is blue.”

“I think he likes you.” Newt reassures Thomas with a cheeky grin. “Even if the sky was not blue when you said it was.”

Brenda and Alby trickle out after a few more moments of conversation regarding terrifying fathers, having made plans to visit some of their friends from their year.

“Shall we go too?” Sonya asks once they’ve left. “Where’s that restaurant we’re all eating at?”

“Not too far.” Thomas tells her. “You need a ride, Harriet?”

“Nah, but thanks. I should probably find my parents then I’ll meet you all at your apartment.”

They then head towards the parking lot to Thomas’s car and Harriet’s parents. Sonya and Harriet walk a little up ahead, arms wrapped over each other’s shoulders, giggling loudly.

Newt laces his fingers with Thomas’s and lays his head on his shoulder. The sun is just beginning to set, the sky a beautiful hue of pastel pink and burnt orange and golden yellow. 

“Today was a good day.” Thomas says softly, despite their distance from the girls.

“Yeah?” Newt asks, just as quiet.

“Mhm. Don’t you agree?”

“Of course. But I have a surprise for you that’ll make it even better.”

“Oh really, now?”

“Mhm. Close your eyes.”

“While we’re walking?”

“Stop walking.” Newt instructs and pulls Thomas to a stop, looking at him with wide brown eyes. “Now close your eyes.”

Thomas laughs nervously but obliges his boyfriend. “You’re not going to spray something in my face, are you?”

“I’m not _that_ childish.” He feels Newt slide something into his hands, something like paper. “Okay, open.”

In his hands is a white envelope, his name written out in Newt’s pretty handwriting. He looks up at him and raises his eyebrow, “What is it?”

“Open it, you bugger.” Newt says, carefully watching Thomas as he bites his lip.

Cautiously, Thomas does as he’s told and nearly drops the piece of paper inside. “What in the -“

“Surprise!” Newt tells him with a toothy smile. “A two week trip to Spain, just you and me.”

Thomas can hardly believe his eyes even as he scans the confirmation email over and over and over. His jaw drops and words can only sputter out of his mouth, “What…I mean..how..what - who..but -“

“Do you like it?” Newt asks, a nervous tone coating his voice despite his smile.

Thomas blinks at him and keeps stuttering, “Of - of course!”

He flings his arms around Newt’s neck, pulling him as close as he possibly can, and yet it’s still not close enough. His mouth begins to hurt from his smile that has dominated his face and he’s whispering, “thank you, I love you, thank you, I love you, thank you, I love you” over and over and over until Newt’s almost shaking in his arms from laughing.

Thomas pulls away from him for a moment, keeping his hands on Newt’s shoulder and his eyes in Newt’s gaze. “Is this my birthday present?”

“Of sorts. I thought it might be fun to surprise you for once, considering you go to _great_ lengths to surprise me.” Newt’s grin reveals all of his perfect teeth and his head is slightly titled to the side, the setting sun reflecting off of him like a princely glow. “But mostly, consider it a mend to a broken promise.”

_Thomas still didn’t feel convinced. “Promise? That’s an easy thing to break, you know.”_

_Newt shrugged and a little smirk materialized on his face. “Not for everyone.”_

“You’re taking me to Spain because my father never will.” Thomas says so quietly, so completely in love. 

Somewhere in a world outside of Newt and Thomas, Sonya and Harriet have stopped walking and are watching the two with heart-eyes and long sighs and Minho and Teresa are getting ready to have dinner with their parents. Somewhere in a world outside of Newt and Thomas, cars are pulling out of spaces and honking at each other so they can get out of Glade University’s parking lot. 

In their little world, Newt’s pupils are so dilated it looks as if his light brown eyes have turned black and Thomas’s smile is so wide it looks as if his pink cheeks are going to burst.

“I am.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“You could show me.” Newt suggests innocently, with a devilish smirk.

“Baby, we’re in a parking lot.” Thomas laughs.

Newt ignores him and pulls Thomas’s face closer to his until their lips are touching and they’re kissing in front of a setting sun and dozens of families trying to get to their cars.

It’s heavenly, Thomas thinks to himself, as his fingers dance on Newt’s skin and his heart beats faster and faster. It’s heavenly and it’s so worth every second he’s spent with this boy their past four years, through all the really good times and all the really bad times. Some of the moments he can’t remember. Most of the moments he will never forget.

But this? This is the moment worth waiting for.

_Come on baby with me, we’re gonna fly away_

_From here_

_You were my best four years_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaand that's the end! thank you all for sticking with me and this story, even when it seemed i abandoned it at times ;). i had a lot of fun with this and i'll be continuing in this universe with a collection of short stories from the time periods this general story didn't cover. keep an eye out for it in the next couple of days, titled "All The Times We Had Together", taken from "Graduation Song (Friends Forever)" by Vitamin C. (can anyone guess which song this story's title is taken from?)
> 
> don't forget to comment down below with one-shot requests! the next collection will be told from each of the six's perspective, not just thomas, so have a little fun with it :) thank you guys I LOVE YOUUU all so much and appreciate every single one of your kind comments and warm hearts. never change you wonderful angels xx

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Newtmas fic, so go easy on me at first. The chemistry between Newt and Thomas is slow at first, because this is a college AU fic and I wanted to write a fanfiction where they weren't immediately all over each other.


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